Crossing Borders
by maaike-fluffy
Summary: Prince Caspian and the Pevensies continue their life after their farewell, but none of them can stop dwelling on the past. Then, Caspian makes a decision. If she can't come to him, then he'll have to find her. Movie-verse. CaspianxSusan.
1. Chapter 1

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**Disclaimer**: Full rights of _The Chronicles of Narnia _and it's characters lie with C.S. Lewis and Disney. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**The Horn and the Tree**

The soup looked delicious as always. Being the King of Narnia, Caspian had himself well looked after. Three of the best cooks in Narnia jumped at every occasion to prepare lavish banquets for their King whenever he had guests to entertain. But on evenings like this, when he sat alone in the dining hall, Caspian had no need for exceptional meals. Trufflehunters' soup, according to the Badger's family recipe, seemed as delicious to Caspian as a richly stuffed turkey; it reminded him of the day his old life had changed forever. The day he had blown the horn. The day he had called them. _Her._

The ivory horn hung from his belt, and Caspian let his fingers travel from the rich carvings at the mouthpiece, to the sharp fangs of the lion's roar, impressive even in silence. Then he pulled away his hand again. So many times he had thought of it; to blow the horn again. To call them back; the Kings and Queens of old. Most specifically the Gentle Queen. But Caspian never did. The words of both his beloved professor and Queen Susan himself stayed his hand. _"Do not use it, except at your greatest need." "I'm afraid that's just it. We're not coming back."_ Caspian listened to the Queens voice in his head, over and over, until her words were "_I'm not coming back._" And Caspian knew the words were true. She wasn't coming back. Not even if he blew the horn. Still, the horn remained a temptation. A temptation that he fought every single day since they'd left. A temptation that he chose to carry around with him everywhere; the only reminder of Queen Susan he had left.

From the corner of his eye, Caspian saw Trufflehunter enter the room. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, Caspian shook himself out of his daydream and continued eating his soup. By the time the caring badger had reached the table, the cup was empty and Trufflehunter seemed satisfied.

"I'm going to take a walk. I will be back before nightfall." Caspian broke the silence, and Trufflehunter nodded and proceeded to clear the table.

Caspian rose stiffly and strode out of the dining hall, Queen Susan's horn hitting his leg with every step he took. If he had looked back, he would have seen Truffelhunter watching him leave, a concerned look on the badger's face.

* * *

Caspian's stroll took him through the Castle flower gardens and down the sandy slope that took him to the beach. This is where they had arrived the second time, according to Lucy. Caspian smiled as he remembered the young Queen's enthusiasm when she told him all about the train station that had unexepctedly morphed into a cave. Though Caspian failed to understand what a train station was, the story fascinated him and walked through the white sand towards the cave, half expecting to see a wondrous world _where large carriages without horses transported many people across the tracks_. But the cave was empty. Nothing was to be found there, no proof of their appearance had lingered. Footsteps had been wiped away by the wind and the sea. Caspian trailed the stone wall. Could there really be a different world behind this rock? A world where time went by slower, where things were so very different from here? It seemed impossible, and yet it was true. Caspian itself had seen the age, wisdom and experience in the eyes of the youthful Kings and Queens.

Leaving the cave, Caspian walked up a grassy hill until he reached his final destination. The tree, looking out over the sea, it's branches forming an invisible portal to an invisible world. Seven people had disappeared in mid air a little over four months ago. The cool wind blew on his face gently as Caspian raised his head to look at it's mighty green crown. What would happen if he walked closer? Would he disappear in mid air like the other had done; only to appear in a new world? Caspian curiously took a step closer to the tree trunk, standing on the very spot where the Great Lion had stood that day. A temptation, stronger even than the ivory horn, drew him nearer. What would happen to Narnia if he stepped through? Narnia would have no king. How much time would have pass while he was there? Would the Narnians be able to fend for themselves? Or would the magical Kingdom fall to despair, like it had done when the Kings and Queens of Old left Narnia for the first time? _"Narnia was never right, except when a Son of Adam was King."_ King Edmund had told him of that day; the day they had stumbled on the portal by accident, never intending to leave Narnia behind, and not able to return until they were called. They hadn't meant to abandon Narnia. Could Caspian abandon Narnia? Could he leave and knowingly leave behind his people? Caspian sighed. He knew the answer. He was King of Narnia, ruler of the Lone Islands, keeper of the peace between the Narnians and the Telmarines. He could not abandon his people.

Caspian did not look back at the tree as he slowly made his way back to the castle, which was colored crimson in the light of the setting sun.

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Susan examined her clothes. Everything was still the same. They were dressed impeccable, like they had been when they'd left. Peter's blouse was no longer torn, but neatly tucked into his pants. Unlike their clothes, the Pevensie children had changed a lot. All three of her siblings looked around them confused, lost now that they were suddenly back into their own world. A world where there were no talking lions, where there were no grand swordfights. Where they weren't Kings and Queens, but simply four orphaned siblings making their way back home after a schoolday.

Susan closed her eyes and tuned out the noise made by the train carriage. Images of a beautiful wilderness swam before here eyes; memories that were only a few minutes old for her, but weeks old for Narnia. Susan wondered briefly how much time had passed in Narnia since they had left. Considering the fact 1300 years Narnian years had passed while they had been gone only a year, it was possible to calculate… Then again, Susan had a feeling time in Narnia wasn't predictable enough to be calculated like that. Pushing away her confusing time-related thoughts, Susan focussed instead on the images that swam before her. Magnificent moss covered trees, blossom dancing on the wind, talking mice, a handsome face with kind eyes…

Susan blinked and the face disappeared. She had worked hard not to dwell on Caspian. She had not allowed herself to feel, first because she was too proud to acknowledge such feelings, later because there were more pressing matters that required her full attention, and finally because the knew that their time of departure was arriving soon. But was there any harm now? Susan looked at her siblings. All three of them were staring into space, lost in a world that now only existed in their memories. Susan closed her eyes, and warmth filled her when Caspian's face greeted her. He pulled up a corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin, as if he was happy not to be pushed from her memories for once. Susan drank in the details of his appearance; his dark hair that fell casually around his face, the shape of his nose, the warmth of his eyes… She saw him more clearly now than she had ever seen him before, mainly because she now allowed herself to see him properly. She could even recall the slight accent that he spoke with, the smell of him she had caught when she'd sat on the back of his horse, the faint pressure of his lips on hers.

Susan bit her lip, recalling each memory as well as she could, and wishing she was still there. She had been ready to leave, yes. But not wiling.

The face faded when Susan suddenly felt a small tug on her sleeve. Forcing her eyes open, she saw Lucy looking at her with eyes that held more depth and understanding than cold be expected of a twelve year old girl. "Susan, are you and Peter really not going back gain?"

Susan's mouth formed a small smile, and she tried t keep the regret out of her voice as she replied. "I don't think so Lucy. I think my time for adventures has passed."

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_A/N: I wrote this in an attempt to clear my mind, and I decided to put it up here for you to read. I'm not sure if I'll continue this fic. I've got some vague ideas, but no plotline, so it might simply stay a one-shot. Please bear in mind that this ficlet is not beta-ed, __and English is not my native language; Forgive me my mistakes. You're welcome to point them out though; it's never late to learn. :)_

_Also know that this is a movie-verse fic. I have never read the book. I have heard that Susan's character is different in the books. I will continue to write her the way the movies introduced her. _

_Finally, I'd like to re-assure the people who've got me on author alert because of my other fics; __Supermen is __not on hiatus, and will continue. As soon as I can start thinking about other things than Narnia, I will continue writing. I am planning to finish it before the summer is over._

_Let me know what you're thinking! _

_maaikefluffy (AKA Fluffy One)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Full rights of _The Chronicles of Narnia _and it's characters lie with C.S. Lewis and Disney. No copyright infringement is intended.

**The Crown of Narnia**

King Caspian did not have time to walk by the cave or the tree the next day, or the day after. Though the war was over now, neither the Narnians nor the Telmarines had gotten used to the recent changes yet, and the war was still fresh in everyone's mind. Caspian spent a great deal of his time as King travelling his kingdom; talking to his people and soothing the small arguments that appeared everywhere. It was not realistic to assume that the Telmarines would willingly share their land with beings that they were taught to fear and despise. The Narnians in their turn, couldn't easily forgive the Telmarines for chasing them in the woods and killing so many of their kin. Though Narnians and Telmarines lived separately for the most part, small conflicts would arise whenever they came in contact. Caspian's charm and charisma, which had saved him at his first encounter with a Narnian gathering, was a great asset in settling these disputes. And though Caspian felt it would take many years still before the peace in his lands would be restored completely, he could see tolerance and acceptance among his people starting to grow. Only yesterday he had seen a Narnian lynx allowing a Telmarine child to stroke his fur, and the image served as a hopeful beacon for the future.

Pushing the curtains over the entrance aside, Caspian entered his richly decorated and furnished tent. Red banners with lions and golden ornaments were prominent in his temporary stay, an idea of Reepicheep no doubt, but Caspian only had eyes for the comfortable and inviting recliner that stood in the corner. Allowing himself to sink back between its soft cushions, Caspian let his head fall back and closed his eyes with a sigh.

"I do hope you weren't planning on sleeping, Caspian. They're waiting for you at the banquet."

The voice took Caspian by surprise, but he recognised it immediately. He smiled and opened a single eye to look at his professor. "Five more minutes?" Professor Cornelius chuckled at their running joke but grunted as he sat down in a nearby seat, his age starting to affect his joints.

"Nobody said being a King was easy." Professor Cornelius looked over his glasses at his former pupil, who sat up straighter.

"My uncle made it look so easy." Caspian said, rubbing his eyes.

"Ah yes." The professor nodded. "But your uncle wasn't particularly famous for his interest in the people." He groaned again as he shifted in his seat. "Then again, even your uncle was often a busy man. I seemed to remember it was very hard to get a hold of him."

Caspian didn't reply, but nodded and looked around the room with unseeing eyes. He remembered the look in the eyes of King Peter. Despite his youthful appearance, those eyes showed how hard his life had been, and what tough decisions he had made. No, Caspian knew it wasn't easy to be King.

"For what it's worth, my young King, I think you are doing exceptionally well. You have already won the love, respect and loyalty of your people in this short time. Remember that the effort that you put in them will be repaid a thousand fold."

Caspian smiled at the encouragements of his former mentor. Of all people, he valued the opinion on Professor Cornelius above all. _I should make him my new counsellor._ "Thank you." Caspian rose from his seat, ready now to face the banquet.

"Just a minute, Caspian." Professor Cornelius rose from his seat slowly, and Caspian had to grip his elbow to steady him as he got to his feet. "You will be needing this." The Professor picked up the crown that lay on the end table and handed it to Caspian. "Your people are expecting their King."

Caspian took the crown and looked at it in his hands. He still wasn't entirely sure he was worthy of wearing it, but he wouldn't let his people down. Placing the crown upon his head, Caspian swept out of the tent.

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That night King Caspian slept uneasily. He tossed and turned in his sleep for hours, causing the concerned guard outside the tent to step in several times to make sure his liege was still okay. When Caspian finally started awake in the middle of the night, sweaty and panting, he could not remember what his dream had been about. Only one image stood clearly in his memory; that of a large tree with a green crown and a trunk split in two.

Feeling wide awake and sticky from sweat, Caspian threw his covers off him, put on his leather boots and draped his mantel over his nightgown. Pushing the curtains aside, Caspian exited the tent. The guard, who had been dozing off in a chair next to the entrance, jerked awake and, upon seeing King Caspian, jumped up.

"My Lord! I did not expect to see you at this hour! Is any way in which I can assist-" The guard seemed flustered and somewhat scared at being caught asleep outside the tent of his King, and Caspian wondered briefly what his uncle had done to his guards to inspire such fear in them.

Caspian then raised his hand and, at second thought, smiled at the guard to reassure him. "Nothing is amiss, I simply desired a midnight stroll." With that he left the guard, who visibly relaxed, and walked by the edge of the forest. The air, which had been cool during the day, had turned cold. It was a nice change after his clammy bed, but the sweat on his skin caused him to cool off a little too quickly. Caspian tucked his mantle around him more securely as he walked on. The grass was long and covered in dew, sweeping at his feet and soaking his boots and the hem of his mantle, but Caspian soon left the grass for stone as he climbed the large flat rock on the top of the hill. From here Caspian could look out over the majority of his kingdom. Summer had passed and the arrival of autumn had coloured the leaves of the forest a deep red that not even the pale blue light of the moon could hide. The stunning sight captivated Caspian, and he marvelled at the thought that this beautiful land fell under his reign. He made a silent vow to rule this land to the best of his ability.

After sitting under the starry sky for several minutes, his thoughts strayed to his latest dream. In his mind's eye, Caspian could see the tall tree again, it's branches reaching to the sky, it's trunk split in two, and—Caspian was certain he had seen them—shadows flitting behind the mysterious doorway. _How can I start looking forwards?_ He asked himself. _When I look over my shoulder at night?_ He was yearning to drive Destria home, to where the tree really stood, but once again he fought temptation. _King of Narnia…_ He told himself. _Ruler of the Lone Islands. Keeper of peace between Narnians and Telmarines._ Caspian sat on the rock for hours, lost in thought, until the chilly wind became too much and he trudged back to his tent, shivering.

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Susan's hair whipped around her face as wind blew in her back, almost urging her forwards. The four siblings silently walked the way home from the train station. Even Lucy was uncharacteristically subdued. Edmund seemed to stare at the straight rows of houses lining the streets, as if he was amazed such buildings existed. No such houses could be found in Narnia. Narnians slept in holes, hollow trees or caves. Most of the Telmarines stayed in cottages, scattered on the hillside. Nothing like here.

Peter had put a protective arm around his youngest sister, though there was no danger to shield her from. Not here. Still Lucy leaned into him, grateful for the support of two strong arms. Momentarily Susan wished for two strong arms to hold _her_, but not Peter's.

"We're here. We're home." Edmunds voice broke the long silence, an Susan looked up to see he was right. A very familiar and solid brick house, almost indistinguishable from the other houses in the street, had waited for them to return. _Home? Is this home?_ Susan put her hand in the right pocket of her coat, and her fingers found the cold metal of her steel keyring, right where she'd put it before they'd left. Walking the path to the front door, Susan slid the key in the lock and twisted. A soft _click_ was heard and Susan pushed the door open. _Yes, this is home. _

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_Author's Note: So yes, I decided to continue this story. You may have noticed the change in the summary... I don't know how far I'll take this yet, but I'm just letting my imagination do the work here. Thank you so much for your encouragements; ScrewyLouie12 (:-D Nice to see you in this fandom!), QueenSusanLovesKingCaspian18, jackiez32 (Your wish has been fullfilled) and GilbertDrone328 (Thank you for your kind words, they truly mean a lot. C.S. Lewis said in an interview that 'Susan's story wasn't finished yet', so I'm assuming that means a heart to heart with Aslan would sort her out...)_

_Let me know what you're thinking..._

_Fluffy One_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Full rights of _The Chronicles of Narnia _and it's characters lie with C.S. Lewis and Disney. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**The shadows behind the tree**

"Caspian!" The voice was hardly more than a whisper carried on the wind, but Caspian heard it quite clearly. His footstep echoed across the stone walls as he hurried through the Entrance hall, wanting to keep up with the whisper.

"Caspian!"

The cold wind he had expected did not hit his face as he walked through the large doors. Instead a light, warm breeze gently caressed his face, and it smelled faintly of freshly cut grass. Caspian was surprised to see that the trees were no longer yellow and red, but green. He halted in his tracks to consider this odd fact, but another whisper lead him away, across the flowerbed and to the sea. Caspian knew where he was going, having walked the path numerous times before. He tripped and stumbled in his haste to climb the hill to the tree. There, as if he'd never left, stood Aslan. But the whisper, Caspian knew, had not been his. Then he noticed the colour of the leaves—red, as if time had passed for this tree only—and Caspian knew that this was a dream.

"Caspian!"

Shadows with blurry edges moved behind the portal in the tree trunk, and Caspian walked closer. This was where he usually woke up, right before he could take a better look at the shapes. But he was still here now. Anticipation growing in the pit of his stomach, Caspian crept closer, closer than he had ever gone before, until he was standing right next to it. He put his hand on the bark to feel where it split in two, but pulled his hand back when he felt the bark was warm. _Alive_.

"Caspian!"

Caspian blinked. The shadows were really close now, and clearer than he had ever seen them before. Caspian could see their dull colours blurring against a blinding white background. Shielding his eyes, Caspian took a closer look at the shape nearest him. It was red with brown, and it was moving around, but never leaving Caspian's sight. As he watched, the shadow gradually became clearer, taking the shape of a human being. A faint sound of laughter reached his ears, as soft as the whispering had been. Caspian recognised this laugh; he had heard it often. _Queen Lucy! _

As soon as he realised who the laughter belonged to, Lucy's shape immediately became clear. She was wearing a red cloak over her green dress, and a few strands of hair was tied at the back of her head, keeping her long hair out of her face. Most of all, Caspian noticed the enthusiastic broad smile on her face as she ran towards a second shadow. Caspian looked away from Lucy to focus his attention on this new shadow, which quickly took shape of High King Peter. Caspian watched as Peter lifted his youngest sister up and twirled her through the air.

Now that the white background was no longer blinding, it became easier for Caspian to identify the shapes. Edmund stood a little further back, a hand on the hilt of his sword, watching his brother and sister with a contented smile. Caspian's eyes lingered momentarily on the crown of the Just King, but they quickly strayed to look for the fourth shape. He found her standing a few feet away from Edmund, but unlike her younger brother, Queen Susan didn't look at Lucy or Peter. Instead she looked directly at Caspian, and smiled when her eyes found his. Caspian's insides burned with desire to step through and join the Kings and Queens of Old. Then he realised again that he was merely dreaming. It couldn't hurt to step through in his dreams, could it? He wouldn't abandon his people if this was all merely a dream. Caspian hesitated, and looked behind him to where Aslan still stood silently. The Great Lion gave Caspian the tiniest of nods. Caspian quickly turned his attention on the Kings and Queens again, and was relieved they were all still there. High King Peter had put Lucy back on the ground and put an arm around her. Queen Susan hadn't moved, but looked at Caspian with the same warm and inviting smile. Caspian made up his mind. Without looking over his shoulder one last time, he walked through the doorway. Susan's face broke into a wide grin and then disappeared, leaving Caspian to suddenly stare at the dark ceiling.

Caspian blinked a few times to clear his mind. He was lying in his four poster bed, his covers twisted around his legs. He'd probably been tossing and turning for hours. Instead of feeling disappointed he'd woken up, he felt happy he'd come so far this time. Frankly, he was surprised it had taken him that long to wake up; he usually woke much sooner.

As he lay staring at the ceiling, the images of his dream faded and his wonder gradually made way for frustration. He rubbed his face with his hands. What was he going to do about this? This, these dreams every night, his obsession with the tree… it couldn't go on like this. It had been weeks since he'd had an uninterrupted night sleep, and his exhaustion was starting to affect him during the day. He had to do something…

Caspian knew from experience that it was no use trying to go back to sleep. Besides, it was almost damn, if the birds outside were any indication. With a deep sigh, Caspian pushed the remaining images of his dream from his mind and got up to ready himself for a new day.

"Caspian, what are you doing up this early?" Professor Cornelius sat at the dining table, enjoying an early breakfast. His silver-white hair was in disarray from sleep, but his keen eyes were clear as he observed Caspian.

"I could ask you the same." Caspian sat down next to his old Professor, and several servants hurried over with a knife and silver plate.

"Old age, my dear King. I can't sleep as easily as I used to, and I'm afraid my brief stay in Miraz' cell did not improve matters."

Caspian winced as he remembered finding the crumpled form of his beloved Professor on the cold floor of the dungeon. But Professor Cornelius wasn't asking for pity; he was long at Caspian expectantly, awaiting a reply. Caspian briefly considered confiding in the Professor and tell him all about the tree and the dreams that were haunting him at night, but thought better of it. "I seem to have trouble sleeping lately." He said instead. After all, it wasn't a lie.

"So I noticed." The Professor's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "If the bags under your eyes grow any larger, you are in danger of tripping over them."

Caspian smiled, but did not reply. He grabbed a slice of toast from the basket on the table, and began buttering it.

"Professor?" Caspian ventured after they had been eating in silence for a while.

"Yes, Caspian?"

"What can you tell me about the lives of the Kings and Queens of Old? Of their _other _world?"

Professor Cornelius froze for a moment and looked sharply at Caspian, who waiting for an answer with baited breath. "Hmm. Follow me." Professor Cornelius grunted finally and rose slowly from his seat. He began to talk as the walked the hall towards to Professor's study. "Not much is known about the lives of the Kings and Queens outside Narnia, and the _other world _is still very much a mystery. I ought to have used to opportunity to ask them about it." He added with obvious regret. "All we know for certain is that a portal from our world to theirs opens occasionally. Where or when cannot be predicted, except perhaps by Aslan.

Caspian pushed open the door to Professor Cornelius' study, and held it open for the Professor before he entered himself.

"An even bigger mystery than the portal is that of the passing of time. Given the numerous years they have ruled over Narnia, the many ages they have been away, and their youthful appearances when they returned, their passing of time must differ greatly from ours." Professor Cornelius walked towards his impressive collection of books on the shelves, and began to trace the covers with his index. "As for the Kings and Queens themselves," he continued, "we can be fairly certain about the surname they used in their own world. Ah!"

Having located the particular book he had been searching for, Professor Cornelius pulled if off the shelf. It looked like a bundle of loose papers, held together by a leather cover of fading green. Caspian could briefly make out the picture of four crowns—two of them silver, two of them golden—before the Professor laid it down on his desk and lit a candle.

"The name _Pevensie _appears many time in historical documents. Twice in a letter written by faun Tumnus, said to be a close personal friend of the Valiant Queen. The name also appeared on a letter written by King Edmund the Just himself. This letter is priceless now, of course. I am very fortunate to have obtained it." The Professor spoke as he flipped the pages in the bundle.

_Pevensie. _Caspian thought. _Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie. _The name had a certain ring to it. It fit them. They seemed more real somehow, more human, now that he knew their name.

"Now, how large this other world is, remains unknown. For all we know it could be larger than ours. Also, it seems clear that this world has a technology that exceeds our own. The silver flameless torch of King Edmund was most certainly not magical, yet unlike anything I have ever seen before. There we are…" Professor Cornelius put his small round glasses on the bridge of his nose and squinted at the parchment he had extracted from the bundle. "There is great speculation about the exact location of the Kings and Queens' home. Most Narnians believe that they lived in _War Drobe_, a city in the land of _Spare Oom_." The Professor looked up from his paper. "The name _Finchley _also appears, though that might simply be the name of their residence."

Caspian repeated the strange names to himself several times, and tried not to look at Professor Cornelius, who was looking at him with a piercing look that seemed to look right through him.

"The stories of the Kings and Queens are fascinating, Caspian, and they are worthy of studying for they hold much greatness and wisdom. But they were the Kings and Queens of Old. Of _Old_, Caspian. You are the _new_ King."

The Professor's message was unmistakable, and Caspian nodded. "Yes, I know."

* * *

_Author's Note: Wow, everyone! Your response has been overwhelming. I'm glad you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Thank you to all of you who reviewed: Moira1013, QueenSusanLovesKingCaspian18, ElisabethAnne, GreysAddict21, Rishtalak, Carah (It's Dutch... :-) ), Istalri, muser321, Roswalyn (Wow! Thanks! XD), GilbertDrone328, hpswt101 and sarahyyy._

_Love, Fluffy One_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hi! I am back again. And this time with an __**important Author's Note**, before we begin. After I uploaded the last chapter __Princess Lucy raised two very good points, and it took me a while to figure out what to do with them. Before I continue I'll remind you all that, when I started writing this, I hadn't read any of the books yet. Any information not given in the movies were unknown to me. By now I have started VDT, and I can see the inconsistencies between my fic and canon. First: Lucy is twelve in this fic, not nine. There is a big difference between the mindset of a nine-year-old and a twelve-year-old, and I have written too much of her already to change it now. Also, the movie keeps us in the dark about the Pevensies home after their stay at Professor Kirke's, or the whereabouts of their parents. In the books the Pevensies attend boarding school. In my fic they don't; their father is fighting in the army, and their mother has died in the 1940 Blitz. Since I am going by the ages of the movie-actors, Peter and Susan are both adults, (21 and 20 years old.) and more than capable of taking care of their two younger siblings. Especially considering the fact they were all responsible adults once. And the British Government had to worry about more important things than that at the time. I __have to have the Pevensies live at their own home without their parents; it is necessary for the plot. So if those little things above make the story a little AU, so be it._

_Yes? Got all that? Good. Onwards!_

* * *

**4. Relapse**

The next night Caspian didn't get any further than the hill towards the tree. He was pulled out of his deep sleep and was consequently so disoriented his poor frantic guard needed to explain the reason why twice.

"My apologies for waking you at this hour, my Lord, but a situation has risen and we need your help. A fight broke out, just three miles south of Cair Paravel. A Telmarine killed a Talking Beast and I'm afraid it's turned quite ugly. Sir, some of your soldiers were sent to keep the peace, but they can't seem to get the situation under control. It would be good, I think, if your Majesty made an appearance, so the people…"

Caspian was already on his feet. Even in his confused and sleepy state he had caught enough to judge the urgency of this matter. _It must be ugly indeed, if they had to resort to waking me._

He dressed quickly, his head getting clearer now, and as he looking around briefly in search of his boots he caught the expression on the face of the guard that had just woken him. Suddenly Caspian realised that waking the King in the middle of the night must have been a very unpleasant—and possibly dangerous—job under Miraz' regime.

He walked past the guard as he went to pick up his boots by the door, and gave the poor fellow an encouraging clap on the shoulder. "Thank you for waking me. You did good." Then he swept out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him.

* * *

You wouldn't say it was in the middle of the night if you saw the street. All the Telmarines and Narnians in the vicinity were out. It might have been a celebration of some sort, if it wasn't for the grim looks on the people's faces. They had fallen silent at the arrival of the King, and were now eyeing him nervously as he walked through the crowd to where his soldiers were restraining two Telmarines and three Narnians.

"Release them." Caspian ordered curly, and it was immediately done. "What, pray tell, has happened here?" One of the soldiers opened his mouth to answer his King, but Caspian pointed at a Telmarine with a long red hair and a bushy beard.

"That… tiger… attacked my son, my Lord." He said, pointing at the still form of a lynx lying still on the cobbled street. Even without the three arrows sticking out of it's back, it was unmistakably dead. Caspian felt a pang of regret for he recognized the lynx. "It attacked my son, so I killed it. There is no crime in that! And now _they _come here and-" But before the words had left his mouth a roar of outrage sounded from the Narnians.

"Eius didn't attack that boy! Eius _liked _him, Aslan knows why. They were simply playing! You_ murdered _the only Narnian that tolerated you folk!"

"Murdered? Pah!" The second, brown-haired Telmarine scoffed. "It was a beast."

"A _Talking_ Beast!" One of the fauns replied, looking furious. And several other Narnians started shouting too.

"All the same, I see no difference."

"It makes all the difference in the world, you – Oi! Get off me!" The faun pulled his arm from the grasp of a soldier that was trying to keep him from lunging at the Telmarine. "Talking Beasts have souls, voices and characters. You just murdered my very best mate!"

"_SILENCE_!" Caspian roared, and the crowd calmed down once again. Now that all faces were turned to him, Caspian continued. "This lynx was no threat to you or your son, dear man. I myself have seen this lynx play with Telmarine children. With that boy, in fact." He pointed to a scrawny boy with short dirty-blonde hair and wide, bloodshot eyes. The boy clung to his mother at the shock of being singled out by the King.. "It that your son?" The red-haired Telmarine nodded. "The lynx meant you no harm. Losing him is a great loss, for he was one of the few who truly worked for peace in these lands.

The red-haired Telmarine still didn't look particularly remorseful, but he withered under the glare of his King.

"And my dear Narnians," Caspian addressed the other half of the crowd, and looked at the faun in particular. "It is not so easy to see the difference between a Beast and a Talking Beast from afar, and a person cannot always afford to hesitate. This man had good reason to fear for the safety of his family and acted instinctively."

He paused for a while and looked at the people, Narnians and Telmarines alike, that were still staring at him. Some of them hung their heads in shame.

"The war between Narnia and the Telmarines is _over_!" Caspian said forcibly. "The Narnians have only ever wanted peace, and the Telmarines have agreed to live amongst the Narnians peacefully. There is no need to keep fighting amongst ourselves. Let us instead put aside our differences and start building on a harmonious future together! _This _Narnian…" Several people stepped back as Caspian walked to the body of Eius the lynx. "This Narnian understood this well, and has practised it. He was an example for every one of us, and he will be given an honourable funeral." At Caspian's signal, two soldiers rushed forwards and carried Eius' body to the carriage. "You five, " and here he pointed at the two Telmarines and the tree Narnians, "will come with me. I will decide what to do with you in the morning. The rest of you:" He raised his voice as two men, a centaur and two boars trudged past. "Go to your homes and take lesson of the tragedy that happened tonight, so that fights like these shall _not happen again_."

After that he walked back to his carriage, and he immediately heard the soldiers scattering the crowd. "You heard what the King said. Go on, go home! Back to your houses. You too! Shoo!" Caspian closed the door to the carriage with a sigh, muffling most of the noises outside.

"You handled that exceptionally well, my young King." Professor Cornelius sat on the bench opposite him, smiling.

"But for how long?" Caspian looked outside to the crowd that was slowly disappearing. "Incidents like these have been happening for over four months now, Professor. This is already the third incident this week. The _third_! That I know off. The people don't seem to learn from it. I am starting to think it is impossible for them to live together peacefully." The carriage suddenly started moving, taking them back to Cair Paravel.

"If you think that, then it is." The Professor said wisely. "You must keep faith, Caspian. They have been enemies for many a decade, and this change is not easy for them. When you loose hope, Caspian, we all will."

Caspian nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the sleep away. "I haven't lost hope. But I can't go running out of my bed every night either to soothe another quarrel. I am barely getting sleep as it is."

"A King like yourself shouldn't have to be called for minor conflicts such as these." Professor Cornelius said.

"They'll listen to no one else." Caspian said, warily. "The Narnians don't trust my Telmarine soldiers. They won't accept a single order, unless it comes from me directly." _Me, Aslan or the Kings and Queens of Old._ Caspian added in his thoughts, but he did not say it out loud. He knew his old Professor disapproved of his continuing obsession with the Kings and Queens.

The events of the night had driven all other thoughts from his mind, but the image of the tree returned full force. Caspian pushed the image from his mind and focused on the words of the Professor.

"And why is that, do you think?"

Caspian frowned. _Why do they trust me?_ Wasn't the answer to that question obvious? "Because I've fought on their side in the war, of course! And," he added after a thought, "because Aslan crowned me."

"Precisely!" Professor Cornelius smiled in an all knowing way that slightly irritated Caspian. "You have earned their trust. You have proven your loyalty to them, and they recognize you as King because Aslan himself crowned you. All other Telmarines have yet to prove themselves."

"Yes, I understand the problem." Caspian said, slightly frustrated. "But that still won't help me, will it?"

"Understanding is the first step to the solution, Caspian. The Narnians trust their own kin, do they not?"

"Well, yes..." Caspian looked at the Professor expectantly, waiting for an elaboration. But the Professor look pleasantly back at him, as if the solution was obvious. "How does that help me?" Caspian asked, confused. "Should I-" An idea occurred to him. "Should I sent Narnian officials as well as Telmarine ones?"

"You are King of two different people, my dear Caspian. It makes sense that your officials should represent the whole of your people, and not only part of it." Caspian sat straighter, his attention fixed solely on the discovery of a realistic solution to his problems. "I take it there are more Narnians like Eius the lynx who are willing to work on a united Narnia?"

Caspian nodded. _Yes, yes, there are. And they'll have to be impressive and charismatic…_ "Glenstorm maybe, or Reepicheep…"

When the carriage arrived at Cair Paravel at long last, Caspian exited with a lighter heart and a well laid out plan.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks as always to those who reviewed: GreysAddict21, hpswst101, Kookie-chan (Thank you! That is a bigger compliment than you realize!), Princess Lucy (Thank you for pointing out those inconsistencies! I love it when readers are intelligent like that XD), Miyako (You will 'see' Susan and Caspian again. As for the language: it's Dutch), muser321, XokortnayoX, musicormisery4105, actac18, QueenSusanLovesKingCaspian18, Riviera Lynria (Thank you! I've worked very hard to achieve that.), sarahyyy (:lol: I'm glad it amused you so!), GilbertDrone328, Crimson-Kiss17, HPgirl7, mae-E, im to lazy to write i story and mary-v (Oi! It's you! :tackleglomps:)_

_Finally, I'd like to end this A/N with a little shameless plugging. Not for myself, but for a two days old Susan/Caspian community devoted to fanfiction and fanart. So, to all you shippers out there, go to my bio and follow the link! It's a wonderful place that needs more authors, artists and readers.  
_

_Let me know what you think!_

_Love, Fluffy One_


	5. Chapter 5

**5. Failure**

_We need to do something,_Susan thought. _Anything. _They had been sitting in the living room in utter silence for over fifteen minutes now, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind as to what everyone's thoughts were about.

Maybe it was because Susan was the most practical of all of her siblings. Maybe it was because of all of them she had had the least problems re-adjusting the first time. Maybe it was because she knew that she would never return. Or perhaps it was because she needed to get the thoughts of Caspian out of her head; but Susan was desperate to get back to her old life. It was time to stop living their fairytale and get back to the real world.

"Lucy, don't you have homework?"

Three baffled faces turned slowly towards her. "Homework?" Lucy repeated, as though the word was new to her.

"_Homework,_ Susan?" Edmund said incredulously. "Who thinks about _homework_ on a time like this?"

"Mother told us to do our very best at school, because school's-"

"Mother is not here." Peter said dully, and Susan shot him a nasty look. _Thanks for the support._

The thought of her mother drove some of the Narnia-related memories from her mind, and instead a heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. They had no idea where she was, or how she was doing. "Well, that doesn't mean we should stop listening to her."

* * *

Caspian sent off a messenger early in the morning, carrying three letters to Narnians with a request to become spokesperson of the King. It was not easy to sent messages to Narnians because, unlike Telmarines, they did not live at one place. Caspian did not expect his messenger to return quickly, but he was eagerly awaiting the replies.

By the time the messenger returned at the end of the third day, two more conflicts had passed. Caspian had been able to solve them without problems; for he knew that he would soon have a way to prevent them. But he was more than disappointed in the answers that his messenger repeated to him.

"They refused?" Caspian said, feeling rejected.

"Not all of them, my Lord. Reepicheep agreed to be of service. He will be here two days from now."

_Reepicheep_. Caspian thought wryly. Reepicheep wasn't exactly intimidating… nor capable of restraining an outraged centaur. He was the most skilled swordsman of the country, and that gave him some status. _But, I am trying to get them to _stop _fighting. _"Why did they refuse?"

Caspian had written the message as a request rather than a command, feeling that they would function better if they was no force behind it. Now he felt sorry he hadn't written a command; he hadn't expected them to refuse him this.

"I believe the centaur's exact word were; I will not leave my friends and family to waste my time with selfish and violent humans such as yourself." The messenger said with a clenched jaw.

Caspian's eyebrows shot up. _That _was very uncharacteristic for Glenstorm. The centaur was intimidating, but usually polite and serene. "Why would he say that?" The messenger hesitated for a split second and Caspian knew there was more to the story. He crossed his arms. "Well?"

"They were sneaking up on me." The servant said quietly. "I heard them everywhere in the woods, but I couldn't see them, and so I drew my sword."

"You drew your sword?" Caspian repeated.

"And when they appeared they threatened me, Sir. That leopard was going to attack; I could see it's fangs. It was self-defence!"

"You attacked?" Caspian cried aghast.

"I didn't kill it." The messenger defended himself.

"But you attacked?"

The messenger nodded, and Caspian closed his eyes, groaning. No wonder the Narnians refused a request made by a Telmarine that had just offended them.

"My Lord?" The messenger seemed to be ashamed of his rash actions now that he realised the consequences, and he feared his King's punishment. Caspian had no patience to reassure the man, and left him alone in the hallway as he walked towards his sleeping quarters in a daze.

The plan that had kept his hopes up was crashing down around him. No matter how chivalrous Reepicheep was, the mouse alone simply wouldn't do. He was right back to where he'd started, but his time he'd lost hope. The Narnians and the Telmarines weren't reconcilable. Enmity would continue to brew under the surface until, at some point, it would boil over and the whole war would start again. There was no United Narnia, and there never would be.

Caspian wished Professor Cornelius were there to encourage him. To give him new hope or come up with a new plan—a better one. But the old man was currently at Miraz' old castle to retrieve the last of his possessions and couldn't be expected to return for another day at the very least.

Caspian didn't bother to take off his clothes as he lay down diagonally on his bed. He closed his eyes, praying that sleep would claim him quickly so he would temporarily be relieved from his problems.

* * *

Caspian immediately knew he was dreaming when he realised he was standing among the flowerbeds in the Royal Garden. Something was different this time though. His senses seemed sharpened. The sweet scent of the rosebushes, the hot sun that warmed him right through the fabric of his clothes, the softness of the grass under his feet, the sounds of the birds in the nearby tree, the gentle breeze playing with his hair… it all seemed to be more powerful somehow. Caspian stood in awe for a while, trying to take in all the sensations as he walked the well-trodden path past the beach, by the cave, and up the hill to where the tree stood. Aslan was already there; a mighty, tangible power rolling off him in waves. _Aslan could bring peace to this land if only he returned. Or the Kings and Queens._

As soon as he thought of them, the Kings and Queens appeared in the doorway. Smiling, Caspian walked closer to the tree. They weren't playing this time, like they usually did. They weren't even looking like the careless family that Caspian had gotten used to seeing. All of them stood in a line, side by side, proud and erect. Gleaming crowns on their heads and content smiles on their faces; they truly looked like the Kings and Queens of Old that Professor Cornelius had taught him about.

Oh, how he needed King Edmund for his wisdom and his council. How he needed Queen Susan for the gentleness that seemed to have left Narnia with her. How he needed Queen Lucy for her never-ending faith and the ability to encourage others. How he needed the majestic High King for the pride and the strength that he seemed to be sorely lacking.

As Caspian drew nearer Queen Lucy looked directly at him and smiled brightly. She jerked her head slightly—as if beckoning him over. Knowing it was a dream and there would be no consequences for his actions, Caspian stepped through without hesitation. He did not immediately wake, as he had expected. Queen Susan smiled radiantly and held out her hand. Caspian clearly heard her say; "Welcome back, Caspian." Before his eyes snapped open and he lay staring at the dark ceiling.

He was still wearing the clothes he had worn during the day, and it's many layers had forced him to sleep in an uncomfortable angle. Yet he barely registered the stiffness in his limbs. It was as if he had subconsciously made a decision during his last dream. A decision that sent warmth coursing through his veins and drove out all despair; he was going through. He couldn't rationalize his decision, but he knew it was the right one. Aslan himself had given his permission.

Giving in to his obsession made Caspian's heart lighter than it had been a very long time. He jumped up from the bed, and had half a mind of going through immediately before the responsible side in him caught up.

He couldn't leave like this. Not yet. If he left now, Narnia would most certainly fall to despair. Caspian walked to his desk and sat down, pulling a quill and a piece of parchment towards him.

He would leave Professor Cornelius is charge. He had meant to make him counsellor many times before. He could be Lord Counsellor, Steward of the Throne of Narnia. There was not a doubt in Caspian's mind that the Professor was wise enough to rule the land in his place until his return.

There was no need to explain his decision to the Professor. There were many reasons Caspian could think of to justify his leaving, but the Professor knew the true one, and he couldn't be fooled. Attempting to do so would be an insult.

When Caspian was satisfied with his letter, he folded it and slid it smoothly into a think envelope. Using the bedside candle to melt wax, he let the thick red substance drip on the lid and he sealed off the letter securely by pressing his ring into it. The hot wax slightly burned his fingers, but Caspian hardly noticed. He addressed the letter to Professor Cornelius and left it on his desk. One of the servants would certainly find it.

_This is it. _Caspian thought. _I am really going_. He looked around the room, memorizing the it. The large four-poster bed, the majestic cabinet in the corner, the thick velvet curtains that blocked a spectacular view over the sea, the luxurious carpet on the floor. How long would it take before he set eyes on this room again? Would it still be here? Or would it come down in the hundreds of years that would pass, like it had been for the Kings and Queens?

The Kings and Queens. He would see them again. He would see _Susan _again. In their own world. If he could find them, that was. _Spare Oom, War Drobe, Finchley._ He felt a thrill of excitement.

Walking though the hallways of his castle was a most surreal experience. Nobody was about in the middle of the night, and for that Caspian was grateful; he did not like to say goodbye. He remembered the people that roamed these halls at daytime. Would he ever see them again? Or would they all be dead and gone? He felt a pang of sadness as he thought about Professor Cornelius. The old man would certainly not live to see Caspian's return.

Caspian momentarily halted on the threshold of the door that took him outside, to the castle grounds. Unlike in his dream—where the trees were green and the wind was soft—large brown leaves were scattered all around, blown away by the chilly wind that sent a shiver up Caspian's spine. There was a quick way to the tree—a shortcut—but Caspian felt it was appropriate to make his way to the tree like he did every night. He turned right and stepped through the gate to the Royal Gardens.

The sun was not hot on his back, and the garden was not filled with a rich floral scent, and the birds were deadly quiet, but otherwise the similarities between his dream and reality were uncanny. Every plant, every shrub… Caspian took the sandy slope to the beach at a bit of a run. The fairly strong wind caused the waves of the sea to wash up on the beach much further than they usually did, and there was only a small streak of dry sand left. Seaweed and white foam from the waves were everywhere, and Caspian stepped carefully around it. He breathed in the salty air. Would there be a sea in Spare Oom?

Caspian couldn't reach the cave without wading through ankle-deep water, and decided he needn't see it. He walked up the path that took him to where he was going; the tree. The crown appeared first and as Caspian climbed higher the tree appeared in full. It's crown was not mighty and green, but brown with a few leaves scattered around the split trunk. Caspian took a deep breath and walked closer. There was no bright white background, or shadows flitting behind the doorway. There was just more grass, and a single hill in the distance. Caspian paused when he stood next to the tree, almost on the very spot where Susan and the rest had disappeared. He rested his hand on the bark. It wasn't warm, but cold and clammy. _Like a tree should be._ Caspian looked behind him one more time and took a deep breath. _This is it… Goodbye Narnia. Until I see you again. _He squared his shoulders and stepped through.

* * *

_A/N: I wish I could see your face now. _

_A big "Thank you" to everyone who reviewed--you seriously spammed my mailbox; it was fantastic! XD-- Muser321, musicormisery4105, GreysAddict21, GilbertDrone328, QueenSusanLovesKingCaspian18, Kookie-chan (Well... they were right, weren't they?), hpswst101, Kadasa-Mori (I am astounded by the reaction on his death. I didn't think an OC could generate such a response.), mae-E (Well... that would be now... ), Roswalyn (:beams at your praise: Yes, Cornelius and Caspian won't see eye to eye when it comes to that. Looking forward to seeing you on the website!), Quoter (Thank you! My point exactly!), enjoylife1994 (wish fulfilled), mistressbabette51 (Another familiar face! :) Yes, I don't know what I would do without the existence of fanfics), Captain Mayhem and Rishtalak._


	6. Chapter 6

**End of Chapter 5:**

Caspian paused when he stood next to the tree, almost on the very spot where Susan and the rest had disappeared. He rested his hand on the bark. It wasn't warm, but cold and clammy. _Like a tree should be. _Caspian looked behind him one more time and took a deep breath. _This is it… Goodbye Narnia. Until I see you again._ He squared his shoulders and stepped through...

* * *

**6. ****The Beast Behind the Bush**

Caspian closed his eyes and braced himself for what was coming. What did people generally feel when they entered a portal to another world? It would probably be painful, yet the Kings and Queens had gone back and forth twice. It couldn't be that bad.

There was no pain, no strange pressure, no light feeling in his head. Only his stomach was clenched, but that had nothing to do with the portal. Caspian opened his eyes, and saw green grass and a hill in the distance. He was simply standing on the other side of the tree. Disappointment washed through Caspian, and almost pulled him under. He turned around, and walked through again. Nothing. The portal had closed. He slid down against the trunk of the tree. The tree that had once been the symbol of his obsession, but which now was as ordinary as any other. He had been so sure, _so sure_, that this was his path. That Aslan had given him these vivid dreams to encourage him. All this time he had been fighting the urge to step through. And now that he _wanted _to step through, he found that he couldn't.

Caspian let his head rest against the tree trunk and miserably stared at the dark, cloudy sky. Sitting on the damp grass caused him to get cold and wet, but he was too frustrated to care. Why could nothing go the way he wanted? Why did everything have to be so hard?

As he sat on the ground he thought back of the day _they_ had left. He should have gone through immediately, when the gate was still open. He could have been with them—her— all this time. An image of his last dream flashed before his eyes—the Kings and Queens, proud and erect—and suddenly he felt pathetic. High King Peter wouldn't mope and complain like he did; the High King bore his setbacks with dignity. _I may not be Peter, but I am a King of Narnia. _Caspian jumped up quickly, his disappointment making way for determination. _I will get there. There must be another way._

He took the short route as he walked back to the castle. He did not know another way to get to the other world. But _if _there was another way, there was only one place where he could learn about it; Professor Cornelius' study. He entered the doors and walked the hallway he hadn't expected to see again for a long time, but he gave it little thought. Somehow he felt he had to hurry. He took the stairs two steps at a time and almost ran around the corner until he faced the door to the Professor's study. The Professor wasn't there, Caspian knew, but still he had to fight the urge to knock. He pushed open the door and walked to the shelves, his fingers tracing the book covers. He knew what he was looking for. The bundle of papers. He'd seen it less than a week ago when the Professor had told him about the Kings and Queens. His fingers found a faded green leather cover and he pulled, smiling as he noticed the illustration of the gold and silver crowns.

Caspian sat down at the desk and opened the leather cover. By the light of his torch he could just make out the words. They were letters, mostly, and torn pages from various books. He found the letter by King Edmund the Just that had been a source of pride for the Professor. It was a treaty of some sort. Caspian did not read it, but his eyes travelled down to the name at the bottom. _Edmund Pevensie._ Caspian put the letter aside and took the next. He read letters for hours on end, without feeling the need to eat or rest. Most of them were written after the disappearance of the Kings and Queens. There were logs of the search parties that had meticulously inspected the west of Narnia, looking for clues about their whereabouts. Caspian carefully read the passage where they reported the discovery of the Kings and Queens' horses. _In the west. _Caspian told himself. _The west. What's in the west?_

He felt like this bundle was his key to the other world; he just had to find out how to use it. It was nearly dawn when he finally found what he'd been looking for. He didn't realise the importance of the paper when he picked it up, but his eyes widened when he started reading and he moved a little closer to the torch for better light. It was a passage from a book, written by a faun named Tumnus—Caspian clearly recalled the Professor's words that were only a week old; _"Faun Tumnus, said to be a close personal friend of the Valiant Queen." _–and it described the very first encounter with Queen Lucy the Valiant by the Lantern. Caspian put the paper down and stared at it with unseeing eyes, thoughts and memories flitting through his mind in rapid pace. _The Lantern. Lantern Waste. That is in the west_. He also clearly remembered the story of the Beavers that had taken care of the Kings and Queens when they had first arrived. _Beaversdam is near Lantern Waste. Horses found in the west… it all fits! And if Queen Lucy had entered and exited three times through the same portal, then didn't that mean that the portal didn't close?_

Leaving the bundle of papers on the Professor's desk, Caspian jumped up from his seat and hurried out of the study. Through the large windows Caspian would see a faint light on the horizon. It would be dawn soon. The castle was still asleep, but the first people would wake soon, and Caspian wanted to be gone before they did; he did not look forward to having to say goodbye to everyone. It was easier like this; a clean break.

He did not look back when he exited the castle and made his way to the stables. Destrier whinnied as Caspian walked in; the horse immediately recognised it's master. Caspian stoked the head of the beast to silence her. "Shhh! Hush girl, don't wake the others now. We'll be taking a little ride together. You and me alone." Though he usually had someone else to do it for him; Caspian knew how to prepare his horse. He grabbed the saddle and fastened the straps as fast as could without making mistakes. A rooster crowed as he opened the stable doors, and Caspian placed his left foot in the stirrup, and pulled himself up, his right leg swinging over the back of the horse smoothly. "Now, go!"

The rising sun coloured the sky an impressive crimson, and by the time the first beams of sunlight hit what was left of the autumn leaves on the trees, Caspian had left Cair Paravel far behind him. He had urged Destrier to go fast as he drove through the inhabited areas, but once he reached the edge of the woods he allowed he to slow down a little. Having slept only a short while that night, Caspian ought to have been tired, but the excitement kept him wide awake. He paused for a short while when the sun was already high in the sky to let Destrier rest, and to refresh himself in a nearby spring. He found a bush of ripe brambles and remembered fondly the day he'd eaten with Susan in a part of the woods that wasn't very far from the place he was now.

He didn't linger long. Feeling Destrier would have more than enough time to rest later, Caspian resumed his journey through the Ford of Beruna. He was momentarily tempted to drive by Aslan's How, but thought better of it. The place held memories that were both sweet and terrible, and he could not let himself get distracted. After midday he reached the Great River and had to find a spot where the water was shallow enough for him and Destrier to wade through, and it wasn't until the sun had started to sink again that Caspian finally reached the borders of Lantern Waste. Having driven all day, Caspian's arms and legs were sore and stiff and most of the excitement had left him. He wondered what state the castle would be in now. How would they respond to the disappearance of their King? Would they have found the letter by now? But the thought of going through the portal, and his absolute certainty that this time he _was_ right stood out clearly in his mind and gave him the energy to continue. Passing through endless tree trunks and shrubbery Caspian found what he had been searching for around twilight; the Lantern. He dismounted his horse, stretched for a moment to ease his limbs, and walked to the Lantern. _So this is where Queen Lucy entered Narnia, the first of her siblings to ever set foot on these lands. _Caspian let his hands rest on the cold steel and looked up; the glass of the lamp was blackened, but it was dark enough in the forest already to see the faint light inside, still burning after so long. _The portal is here, somewhere. _Caspian looked around him. Nothing here looked like it was secretly linked to a different world. There were no trees with a split trunks, or gates that seemed to lead nowhere. There were just trees, and very thick shrubbery.

After a last look on Destrier, his last companion, Caspian walked away to search and explore. Would she be discovered by search parties, like the horses of the Kings and Queens had been? Or would she find her way back home like last time and truly raise the alarm? Caspian pushed branches out of his way as he went. He was unfamiliar with this part of Narnia. It was named Lantern Waste for a good reason. The trees were thick and close, making it difficult to see very far ahead, and the darkening sky didn't exactly help. Caspian began to realise it was foolish of him to leave Destrier behind, but he doubted he could find his horse in the dark now. He might need to find shelter for the night. Caspian did not look forward to spending the night in this forest. It was getting so dark he could hardly see where he was going.

As the falling night took away his sight, his other senses began to sharpen. His skin had long since numbed from the cold wind, but his ears picked up the faintest of sounds, and suddenly Caspian could comprehend how his poor messenger had been very scared when delivering the requests to the Narnians. Caspian too drew his sword, for comfort and for safety. It looked like he wasn't going to cross any portals tonight. He sat down against a particularly broad tree, and managed to start a fire with dead wood, but the wood was damp and thick smoke rose from the fire. Still, it was better than nothing. Caspian warmed his hands and feet, and welcomed the faint flickering light that gave him back some of his sight. He was just starting to think he ought to have brought some of the brambles he had found at the spring earlier that day when his eyes fell on an animal behind the bushes, it's dull fur illuminated by the fire. Caspian jumped up and raised his sword, squinting to see what kind of animal it was. I had to be large, judging from the amount of fur, but it was also standing quite still.

"Wha—Who are you?" Caspian yelled with a voice that sounded shrill to himself, hoping this animal was a Talking Beast who was simply curious why a Telmarine was staying in this wood at night. Perhaps it had recognized him. "Show yourself!" He added when he got no response. "I—Caspian the Tenth, King of Narnia and Telmar—demand that you show yourself!"

His demands were greeted with silence, despite the fact Caspian was straining his ears for any sound. Was that a low growl he heard, or was his mind playing tricks on him? Caspian hesitated for a moment; should he get closer or stay away? The animal didn't seem to attack him, and it would be foolish to provoke an attack by getting closer. Then again, Caspian did not look forward to spend the pitch-black night in the company of a potentially dangerous beast. Realizing he would remain extremely tense the whole night as long as he didn't know, Caspian decided to at least try to find out what was looking at him from behind the bushes, and if this… thing… was indeed a threat. Gripping his sword tightly in one hand, and grabbing a burning branch from the fire in the other, Caspian ventured closer. Now that he had better light, he could see the animal looked most unnatural. The shape of the fur was like nothing he had ever seen, and still he could not distinguish a head of some sort. Caspian jumped when something touched his legs, but was relieved to find if was only a branch. He pushed through a pair of pine trees, now so close to the animal he could touch it.

Caspian immediately knew it was dead. The fur felt cold. Whatever animal it had belonged to was long since gone. There was also something strange about the way it moved at his touch, but Caspian did not have any time to give this matter any thought. He stumbled on a branch or stick that he hadn't seen due to the dark, and lost his balance. He threw his arms out in front of him to break his fall and felt himself hit something hard and solid, before he fell down on a flat, smooth surface. Bright light blinded him and, bewildered, Caspian blinked to adjust his eyes to the sudden light. It took him perhaps thirty seconds to realize he was lying on the floor of an empty room.

* * *

_A/N: So, you thought I was gonna back out, huh? XD_

_You might have been confused about the part where Caspian remembers having eaten with Susan in the woods. No, you did not miss a part from the movie or book. It is a referral to a one-shot I've written; Not Exactly A Feast. It's not necessary to read it, but I certainly wouldn't mind. :D  
_

_Then, I want to take some time to thank The Singer in White profusely for helping me. She's been a huge asset in outlining the plot, and took the time to write me ridiculously long PM's. I am very grateful! Of course, I am also very happy with everyone who took the time to let me know what they were thinking; hpswst101, defyinggravity8504 (I saw you joined, Megan. Welcome!), musicormisery4105, muser321 (You'll have to stick around for a long time until you get the answer to that question.), GilbertDrone328 (Ah, did you see through me? Hope you weren't disappointed!), Captain Mayhem, Kookie-chan (That would be an evil thing to do! :lol:), GreysAddict21, The Singer in White (Good luck on your story. And thanks again!), mary-v (I actually imitated your expression for maximum amusement. :lol:), mae-E (All those questions will be answered in later chapters.), enjoylife1994, Miyako and Rishtalak! (Oh no! We don't want that! :-) )  
_

_I really want to know your thoughts on this one; I pressed myself pretty hard to make this scene as good as possible (Which is why it took a little longer.) Let me know! Press the blue button..._

_Love, the Fluffy One_


	7. Chapter 7

**7. The House and the Woman**

Caspian got up shakily, the arm holding his sword dangling beside him uselessly. The empty room had a single door in the opposite wall, and the windows—which somehow seemed to be made of coloured bits of glass—cast colourful patterns on the wooden floor. _I did it! _There was a flutter in his stomach, and a broad grin spread on his face. _I don't know how, but I did it! _He looked behind him to where he'd come from, and noticed the room wasn't empty after all. A strudy wardrobe with open doors stood was the only object in the room, and in the daylight Caspian could clearly see the fur coats he had mistaken for a ruthless animal. He then truly realised what had happened. _Wardrobe_. _War Drobe. In the Spare Room. Poor Queen Lucy must just have been trying to explain how she stumbled into Narnia. _

Caspian started to laugh. Quiet at first, but his laughter grew louder until it grew uncontrollable. He clutched at the stitch in his side, unable to stop the shaking of his chest. It wasn't really that funny, but Caspian found that laughing released him of the whirlwind of emotions that the last night and day had put him through; anger, despair, relief, excitement, happiness, disappointment, determination and fear. All of it left him as he tears of laughter streaked his face, leaving him feeling rinsed, content and confident.

He sobered up after a while, and began to think of the new situation he found himself in now. This room he was in obviously belonged to a house. But whose? The Kings and Queens? Caspian walked towards the windows. Outside he saw a slight slope with plain grass fields, separated by neat rows of green trees. Not only was it daytime here, it was also clearly not autumn. The Professor was right abut the difference in time. Four and a half months had passed in Narnia, but how much time would have passed _here_ since the Kings and Queens had left? Had time passed at all?

Ready to find out, Caspian turned away from the window and walked to the door. After a last look at the wardrobe—his way back home—he stepped into the hallway. There were many more doors like the one he had just exited, Caspian saw. The hallway was carpeted, and strange decorative devices hung from the ceiling. There was one window; the glass of it was broken. It looked like a rich home that had been deserted for quite some time. Still Caspian put away his sword, not wanting to scare anyone in thinking he meant them harm.

Caspian walked the shards of glass deep into the carpet as he approached the broken window. More trees and grassy hills, and one sandy road in the distance, but Caspian also saw what looked like a burned out house. There were small mounts of earth and rubble lay scattered across the grounds . It reminded him of Cair Paravel after he'd given the order for the renovation of the Castle of the Four Thrones. Following the hallway he met more broken windows and several lopsided paintings. _What happened here? _Caspian wondered. He reached a staircase and was halfway descending it when he halted in his tracks, amazed at the sight before him.

Half of the building had collapsed. The roof had come down at one side of the house, and from the black marks on the parts of the wall that still stood Caspian could tell there had been a rather large fire. _What could bring down as house as strong as this one?_ Caspian wondered. The front door had disappeared in the rubble, but the walls were down, and there was a big enough gap for Caspian to pass through. Cautiously he climbed the debris and as he did this he noticed the grass that had begun to grow between the mass of stone, wood and metal.

Once he was outside he could fully see the damage done to the building. It looked like a manor, proud and tall, and unlike any house Caspian had ever seen. But disaster had hit the house on it's right side, knocking out the walls and partly bringing down the roof. Not only the house was heavily damaged, the ground in the area was scorched and one tall tree had been lost in the fire too. Caspian fervently hoped that this house did not belong to the Kings and Queens of Old, and that they had not been affected by whatever had caused this level of destruction. No weapon that knew of could have this effect, and that through unnerved him. He couldn't help but thinking that arriving in this house seemed like a bad omen.

Caspian tore his gaze away from the intimidating sight after a while; he should decide where to go from here. Whoever had lived here was long gone, and there was no such thing as a city of War Drobe or a land of Spare Oom. That left Finchley. Caspian spoke the word out loud several times. "Finch Ley… Fin Chley…" There was no other word that it could refer to, so Caspian felt certain it was a name. But of what? A country? A city? And how was he going to get there? Then Caspian remembered the sandy road he had seen through the broken window in the hallway. That was as good a start as any.

* * *

The sun was unkind to Caspian as he walked the sandy path away from the house. He had been dressed for winter, but in this world the weather was much warmer. Caspian wiped at his sweaty brow and continued walking, grateful that he wasn't wearing chain-mail, but wishing he had searched the house for food or clean water before he'd left. In the woods he could survive, but he doubted there was much to find on the open fields. Caspian looked at the ground as he walked, averting his eyes from the hot, blinding sun. Tanned though he was, he was no longer used to his amount of sunlight, and the skin on his face felt uncomfortable and tingly. It was because he was looking away that he didn't notice the old woman in front of him until he nearly bumped into her.

"Goodday, ma'am." Caspian said when he finally spotted her walking ahead of him. _Finally, someone who might give me directions._

"Oh!" The woman turned around, startled. "Oh, hello, dear." She was short and squatted, with a round face surrounded by whispy silvery curls. The lines in her face showed her old age, but the wrinkles by her eyes were clearly caused by smiling and that, combined with her flowery apron, gave her a friendly look. However, as soon as she greeted him, her brows knit together and she looked at him in a post peculiar fashion, observing him from top to toe. "It is awfully hot to be wearing those clothes, young man." She said after a while. Caspian nodded in agreement and was about to ask her for directions when she added; "Are you a soldier?"

Caspian frowned, feeling slightly offended. _Do I _look_ like a soldier?_ Then he realised she was looking at the sword at his side and that the truthful answer—that he was King of a magical land hidden behind a wardrobe in the mansion up the hill—might raise more questions than it answered. Instead, he nodded.

"Well, _that _won't be of much use in the battle against the Axis, boy."

Caspian had no idea what she was talking about, so he muttered "Yes", and changed the subject. "Yes, well… I was wondering if you could help me. I am looking for some people who stayed in that mansion over there." He pointed at the hilltop in the distance, where the ruined mansion was only just visible.

The woman had to squint to see what he was pointing at. "You mean Professor Kirke's?" She said eventually. "Poor man, he was always so polite to me. There aren't many people like him about, you know. Thank the Lord he wasn't home when his house got blown up. Though, I'm afraid I don't know how he's faring; He hasn't been home since."

"Blown up?" Caspian repeated weakly, wondering how one would go about that.

"Well, in the bombings of course, dear!" The woman said, confused. "Being in the army, I would have thought you'd know all about _that_."

"Oh, right… yes." Caspian pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache starting to build. "Actually I wasn't looking for the Professor-" An image of Professor Cornelius suddenly clear in his mind. "-I was looking for four…_children_… who might have lived there. They were called Pevensie…" Internally Caspian apologised to the Kings and Queens for referring to them as children, but that seemed to be all they were in this world.

"I'm afraid the Professor never had any children, dear. He never even married. It was just him and the housekeeper there." The woman said, apologetically.

Caspian sighed. "And he never had any children over? Maybe family of some sort?"

"No." The woman shook her head, but then froze. "Oh, but wait! Now I remember… forgive an old woman her poor memory. The Professor _did_ have children from London stay at his mansion not too long ago, bless his kind heart. To keep them away from the bombings, you know." Caspian, who had learned that he was obviously supposed to know about these _bomb things_, quickly nodded. "I've seen the dears play outside; two boys and two girls, right? Their stay must have been exceedingly dull… that mansion wasn't meant for children."

Caspian's heart leaped. "Yes, those are the children I'm looking for! Do you know where they are now?"

Once again, the woman had to disappoint him. "I'm sorry, dear. They left when the Germans started bombing houses as well as military stations. This was no longer a safe place for them." She shook her head sadly. "All of England is no longer a safe place."

_London. England_. Caspian stored the names in his memory. Even though he still wasn't any closer to finding the Kings and Queens, he could now name the place where he had ended up. "And there is nobody who could tell me?"

"I'm sorry, dear." She patted him on the arm in consolation, and Caspian interpreted that as a 'no'. "Are they family of yours?"

Caspian shook his head and ran an hand through his hair. "No, they are… very good friends of mine. I really must find them. I'm afraid I'll have to keep looking."

"Well, they certainly aren't over there…" The old woman pointed in the direction Caspian had been walking. "This road is a dead end. It only leads to my home."

"Oh. Right." Caspian's heart sank at the thought of having to walk back the entire way, and some of it must have shown on his face, because the old woman took pity on him.

"Look here. If you help an old woman carry her groceries inside-" She pointed at the two large bags she had been carrying when Caspian greeted her. "-I'll get you cleaned up a little and we can talk about this in the cool shade. How does that sound?"

Relief washed over Caspian. "Thank you." He said gratefully. "Thank you very much, ma'am." He bent to pick up the two grocery bags in one hand and offered his other arm to the old Lady, who took it.

"Call me Rose, dear. Everyone does."

"Alright. Thank you, Rose." Caspian smiled. "My name is Caspian."

"Caspian." Rose repeated. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

"Oh, you can just put them over there on the table, dear." Rose said, misinterpreting the sudden halt in Caspian's step as he walked through the doorway. She had switched on the lamps in the kitchen, and the sudden flameless light took Caspian off guard.

_These houses are… strange_. Absentmindedly Caspian put the bags on the table, and proceeded to look around, his head craning to see every corner.. _Professor Cornelius was right about the technology in this world._ There were many devices here that Caspian had never seen before in his life. He let his hands trace over a black box, made of a material that Caspian couldn't remember ever having seen before.

"You can turn on the radio if you like." Rose said, as she walked into the kitchen to put away the groceries. "One of the radio towers was completely destroyed last month—ruddy Germans—so the sound is poor, but it is better than nothing."

_Radio. Germans. _Caspian added it to the growing list of words he didn't understood, but nodded to acknowledge he had heard her.

"Just turn the knob, dear. Yes, that one." She added when Caspian pointed at a silvery cylinder poking out of the black device. Following instructions, he turned it. A soft _click _ was heard before the box emitted a noise that took Caspian totally off guard. He leaped backwards, and looked around him wildly. Rose scurried over, and turned the volume down quickly. Then she turned to face Caspian with a expression of curiosity and… pity?

"You never told me where you came from… I don't recognize your accent." She said after a while.

"Oh, eh…" Caspian searched for a good answer, still thrown off by the _radio_. "I'm from… the west." And when that answer didn't satisfy her he added. "From, er… Glasswater."

"Oh, " Rose said, thoughtfully. "I've never heard of that place before." She shrugged it off. "Why aren't you in the army now?"

"Because… I got injured. _Bombings_" Caspian bit his lip, he didn't like lying to this lady who had been nothing but kind to him.

"Oh, my poor dear!" Rose exclaimed. "Well, that certainly explains why you jumped at lights and noises." She patted him on his arm. "I'll make you a nice cup of tea." Caspian watched her go. Whatever these bombings were, they had certainly helped him, because all of Rose's suspicion had vanished. "Did I mention my son joined the army too?" She asked from the kitchen. "Oh, yes. He was sent to Denmark last year. Does his part in the war, just like you."

Caspian remained silent, taking in his strange surroundings and trying to come up with a plan to find the Kings and Queens. Even though he had found shelter and some refreshments, he was still stranded in an unknown place, with no means of finding what he was looking for. _Except…_

"Rose?" Caspian said slowly. "Have you ever heard of a place called _Finchley_?"

"Finchley?" Rose halted in her tea-making process to look at him. "I certainly have. Finchley is in London." She paused for a second. "Do you think your friends might be there?"

Caspian nodded. "And how would I go about going to _London_?"

Rose scurried over with tea and biscuits. "There you are. Trains would be easiest, I think." She gave him a funny look again, as though she was questioning his sanity again. Caspian perked up at the word _train_, remembering Lucy talk about them. He smiled at Rose and took a sip of his hot tea.

"I'll drop you off by car." Rose said, grabbing a biscuit. "It's much too far to walk all the way."

* * *

_A/N: This chapter gave me a little more pain than the others did. Why oh why must I insist on making things so hard for myself? I know next to __nothing about England in 1941... :sigh: Ah, well..._

_Thanks, as usual, to: musicormisery4105, hpswst101, Kooki-chan (You really seem to like seeing him fall :lol:), Esyla, QueenSusanLovesKingCaspian18, evil-sami-poo, The Singer in White, Shining Friendship, muser321, XoKortnayoX, im to lazy to write i story, GilbertDrone328, mary-v, Captain Mayem, Random Person (Whoa there! :hold up hands: Here you are! ), mistressbabette51 (You're caught up, I noticed :wink:), defyinggevity8504, mae-E (I love you for helping me along like that, your questions make me double check my work. Thanks!) and purplemachine._

_One more thing: I try to make a point of replying to reviews and answering questions that are asked. I noticed that some people ask questions in anon reviews. No problem with CB, 'cause I can just answer them in the thanks, but I have no way of replying when it happens with one of my one-shots. So, if you read my one-shots and there is a question you want an answer to, just make sure I'm actually able to reply...OK?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Progress with setbacks**

Caspian stepped out of the car wide-eyed and rather shakily. When Rose had told him she'd take him to the train station, he had expected some kind of cart or carriage. _Not this._ Caspian failed entirely to understand how this device could move—_so fast!_—with no animal of any kind pulling it along. He chalked it up to the extraordinary technology and tried to think of it no more; it made his head ache.

"Are you sure you're alright, dear?" Rose asked as she stepped out of the vehicle. "You look rather green."

"No, I'm alright." Caspian assured her and slung his bag of clothes over his shoulder. Rose had given him some clothes that her son had left behind when he left for the army. Clearly, Rose's son was smaller than Caspian, because the fabric was rather tight around his arms and torso, and the legs of his pants were too short, but Rose insisted it was better than what he had been wearing before. Though slightly uncomfortable in this strange garment, Caspian felt he'd better look like everyone else.

"Come on, then. Follow me." Rose led the way up a sloping path of dirt. The path passed by a stone platform with a single cabin and several spindly-looking wooden benches with chipped paint. Above a faded white fence hung a large sign reading; _Coombe halt._ Right before the platform there were two long steel bars running across the ground, both ends disappearing in the endless mass of grass, trees and hills. Caspian realised those must be the tracks that Lucy had told him about. He looked up again, just in time to see Rose slip and stumble, and he seized her elbow to steady her.

"Oh! Why, thank you, dear. I'm afraid my legs are no longer what they used to be. Oh, I _did_ enjoy long walks when I was younger." She patted his hand. "We have to hurry; the train will be here soon and we have yet to buy tickets."

_Buy? _Caspian halted in his tracks, and since Rose was holding onto his arm she noticed immediately.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I-I'm afraid I can't pay for… I don't have any money." That wasn't strictly true; as King of Narnia he had plenty of gold—there was a satchel full of it in his bag—but he understood this strange world well enough by now to know that nothing was the same, and that his currency would definitely not be accepted. "I'm afraid I'll have to walk."

"Nonsense, you'll do no such thing. I'll pay for you. _No buts._" Rose added when Caspian started to object. "I am an old woman in a house that is too big for me. I have plenty of money, but nobody to spent it with. My dear husband, God rest his soul, has died many years back, and my son left for the war. You have been wonderful company, dear, and you've saved me from yet another lonely day. This is how I thank you."

Caspian continued to mutter his thanks and gratitude all the way to the train station, but Rose would simply wave it away.

Caspian winced as the _train _came to a screeching halt, but he didn't dare take his eyes off it. _This is used for transportation? _The train was large and painted in a shining green. Caspian nervously eyed the smoke that billowed from a chimney at the front. Was it on fire? Nobody else seemed to be alarmed, so Caspian assumed the fire was not threatening. Then the doors opened and a handful of people stepped out, clutching briefcases. Caspian noticed they were dressed very much like him, except for some men wearing strange looking hats.

"There you are, dear, just in time." Rose seemed completely oblivious to Caspian's amazement and handed him some sort of yellowish paper. "Now remember, in King's Cross you need to take the train to Finchley." Caspian nodded, she had explained this to him before. He briefly wondered why the station was called _King's Cross_, and what kind of person the King of this land…_England_…was, but there was no time to ask. Rose urged him inside, and before he knew it, the doors were starting to close.

"Look me up again when you have a chance, dear." Rose said. "I enjoy your company." The doors closed in Caspian's face, making it impossible for him to reply, but he nodded at Rose trough the glass. _I will, if I can_ He promised her.

Then, with a jolt, the train started moving. Caspian lost sight of Rose as the world behind the glass started shifting; slow at first but quickly gathering speed. Caspian's first impression was that he didn't very much like these train things. The moved too fast for his comfort, especially considering the fact that Caspian still failed to understand what it was that gave the train it's speed and direction. Also, the rocking motion of the train kept throwing him off balance. Though he was used to the rocking of horses, these movements were unpredictable. However, once Caspian had found himself a soft seat—walking with both hands on the walls to steady himself—in an empty carriage, he started to appreciate the train much more. The large window to the side gave him an excellent view of the country. At first it simply showed more grass fields, but with the passing of time the scenery grew wilder. Caspian saw hills, rivers and forests, though never quite like Narnia. He often passed cities too—closely inhabited area's with streets and stone houses like Rose's and Professor Kirke's, albeit slightly smaller—and large roads lined with _cars_ very much like Rose's. He started to wonder how fast they were travelling exactly, and how long it would take him to travel through Narnia in this device. But mostly he was wondering when he ought to get out. The train stopped several times, and people bustled through the hallways whenever it did. Caspian knew he ought to get out at a station called King's Cross, and peered through the window in search for a sign similar to the one that had hung so prominently over Coombe Halt. So far he had only seen signs with other strange and unfamiliar names. The sun set as Caspian stared at of the window. Despite his unease, he could feel himself growing sleepy. He hadn't slept in over two days, and the excitement had kept him from noticing how tired he was. But here, in these soft chairs, were he was expected to wait for his arrival, fatigue washed over him and the lulling, rocking motion of the train sent him to sleep.

* * *

Susan looked out of her bedroom window, staring at the setting sun. It was strange to think that tomorrow would simply be a school day. That life continued as if nothing had ever interrupted it. That she'd pass Strand Station twice tomorrow, back and forth, and find that it was no longer a hidden portal to a magical place, but merely a part of her daily life.

She was never going back. Aslan had said it, and she knew it was true. It made it easier, somehow, to move on, knowing that she didn't have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life. Knowing that she didn't have to count on being swept away at any moment, but that her life was _here_, and that she ought to start thinking about that. She wondered how Lucy and Edmund were faring, knowing that they might return someday. Susan heard the sound of bare feet slapping on the cold stone and turned around to see Lucy in her light blue nightdress.

"Will you miss Narnia?" She asked in a quiet voice, and Susan knew that she, too, had been thinking about how Susan would never return. A deep sigh, and Susan gave her sister a sad smile. "I will. Everyday. For the rest of my life, probably. And Susan knew that that too, was true.

* * *

Caspian didn't know what it was exactly that had woken him, and his mind was too befuddled to think clearly. It took him a moment to remember where he was—his surroundings looked strange—then he remembered his travel and jolted awake. _I ought not to have fallen asleep!_

A quick glance outside told him two things; it was fully dark outside and the train had stopped moving. He cursed himself for closing his eyes, even for a second. _Aslan knows where this train might have taken me. _Caspian stood up and walked to the window at the other side of the carriage. He seemed to be inside some kind of large brick building, with flameless lights on the ceiling, bathing everything in an orange glow. Despite it's size it looked rather deserted. There were Come to think of it, Caspian could no longer see any other passengers in the train either. How long exactly had the strain been standing here? Looking around him, Caspian wondered what to do. Then he grabbed his bag and slung in over his back, uncertainly exiting the train.

Caspian felt uncomfortable leaving the train; what if this wasn't the right stop and the train left without him? "Excuse me?" He said to the first person he saw. A man with a long brown strange-looking coat walked a little further ahead at a brisk pace, but he man walked right on without looking up. Caspian was forced to stray a little further from the train. There, behind a window, sat another man.

"Excuse me?"

"How can I be of service, Sir?"

"Could you tell me where we are?" Caspian asked, happy to have found someone who seemed to be willing to help him.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Well, London, of course, sir."

"I need to go to… _Kings Cross_." Caspian clarified. All the names made no sense to him. _London_ was a familiar name by now, but it wasn't the name of the station where he had to exit.

"This _is _Kings Cross, Sir."

Caspian sighed in relief. So he _had _stepped out at the right station. With a slightly lighter heart he asked; "I'm going to Finchley. Could you tell me where to find the next train?"

Unfortunately, Caspian's relief was short-lived. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm afraid the last train already departed. The first train tomorrow will depart at five past six, from platform 14 over there…"

Caspian's face fell. "Is there no other way?".

"You could try a cab, sir, but it won't be cheap."

_And I have no money…_ Caspian remembered. All he had were his Narnian clothes he couldn't wear and a satchel of gold he couldn't spend. And his train ticket. Caspian felt for it in his pocket; it seemed to be the only possession that was actually worth something here. He'd have to wait until the morning. Muttering his thanks to the man that had helped him, Caspian turned to walk to the empty platform. Thankfully, the air was still warm; at least he wouldn't have to sleep in the cold like he'd had to in Narnia.

There were metal benches on the platform. They did not look particularly comfortable, but Caspian decided it would be better than sleeping on the stone floor. Shifting his bag over his shoulder, he started walking towards it, but he hadn't taken three steps when he noticed not the entire station was deserted. By the orange glow of the flameless lights on the ceiling, Caspian could clearly make out the shapes of three people. Two of them—a man and a woman—walked side by side, talking animatedly. And there, slightly behind them…

"Susan?" Caspian whispered in wonder. He halted in his tracks for a better look at the girl. She was standing with her back turned towards him, but the shiny, brown, and slightly curly hair looked very familiar indeed.

"Susan!" Caspian dropped his back, and started walking towards her. "Susan!" He shouted again, louder this time. He started running towards her, wanting to reach her before she disappeared through the exits, but halted when she turned around to look at him in confusion. She didn't look anything like Susan. Now that he saw her properly Caspian noticed she had the wrong build too; Susan was shorter.

The girl that wasn't Susan stared at Caspian suspiciously as he turned to pick his belongings from the ground and make his way over to the bench. _Fool! They are long gone! _He had no choice now but to wait for the first train tomorrow. Maybe his bag could serve as a pillow, seeing as how the contents were soft. Caspian sighed as he sat down.

So far this world wasn't exactly easy on him, but Caspian found that, despite all this toil, he was still happy to be here. _After all, I've never heard of an adventure that wasn't hard or difficult at some point._ He wondered if the Kings and Queens had felt as lost as he did now when they had first stumbled upon Narnia. At the end of the day, Caspian did not regret leaving Narnia, and that thought comforted him greatly as he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him once again.

* * *

_A/N: Well, not my favorite chapter so far... ah well. Sometimes you just need these transition-things. I've been struggling with writing this one, and I'm not lying when I say that the continuous reviews were a great encouragement. So thank you; _

_BertieBottsBeans (He will meet up with them at some point, but I'm not saying when), musicormisery4105, muser321, mary-v, Kurai2Hikari, GreysAddict21, CaptainMayhem (:headdesk: Yeah, that was here original name, but I changed it afterwards, feeling 'Rose' fit better with her personality. One must've slipped past me. I changed it now), GilbertDrone328, Spitfire1988 (I see no reason to quit...), Kookie-chan (Ooh! Congratulations!), hpswst101 (Read the AN at the top of chapter 4, that should answer your question), Aninha Weasley (Welcome! Well, I'm not English either, so the story will not get that difficult...), The Singer in White (Yet again, a heartfelt thank you! You are invaluable!), Shining Friendship, QueenSusanLovesKingCaspian18, mae-E (The time setting is a little different. It'll all get cleared up in future chapters), Grey Blade (Thanks! You are so good to my ego :lol:), HPgirl7 (It WILL happen), Senini (Your review meant the most to me. I am very pleased that my last chapter convinced you. Also, thank you for pointing out the British/American thing. Being Dutch, I am totally oblivious to such things, but I'm trying to write as realistically as possible. So if you see things like it in the future: by all means let me know.), Remember When It Rained, XoKortnayoX, host and mistressbabette51._


	9. Chapter 9

**Visiting Finchley**

The second train ride was only short, just two stops away from King's Cross, and Caspian—who had stayed very much awake during this second ride—had spotted the signs bearing the name _Finchley_ before the train had even properly stopped. Unlike the first train ride, which had been late in the evening, the train was rather full this time, mostly with stiff looking men with suitcases and the same strange hats he had seen yesterday. Caspian was glad to finally exit the train, partly because he was now closer to finding the Kings and Queens of Old, but also because of the way his fellow travellers kept glancing in his direction. The way they eyed him reminded Caspian that it wasn't customary for people in this world to be carrying around swords. Still, Caspian did not want to part with it; he felt uneasy enough walking around in a unfamiliar world on his own, he did not want to put away the only thing that made him feel a little more secure.

Caspian stood still in the busting crowd of entering en exiting travellers. This station looked like a combination of both Coombe Halt and King's Cross—it was outdoors, like Coombe Halt had been, but it was much larger and had several platforms. Unlike Coombe, there were no fields or grassy slopes here. This area was much more closely inhabited, and Caspian suddenly realised that—even though he had found their city—he still didn't know where they lived. He didn't let that dampen his spirits though; he was proud of himself for already have gotten this far. But as the train left behind him and the crowd dissipated, Caspian decided he did need to come up with a plan. He didn't know how big this city was, but one of these people was bound to know the Kings and Que—No, the_ Pevensie children._

And so Caspian started asking around; addressing people on the platform and the streets. No one seemed to be able to help him, and Caspian started to stray from the train station, asking around as he went. One woman knew the name _Pevensie_, but thought they lived in Kent—wherever that might be. Another woman said the eldest had gone to school with her son, but she hadn't heard of him in a long time.

It wasn't until he reached a marketplace that he realised how hungry he was. He looked at a stand wistfully. There were apples and pears, potatoes and radishes, all of which looked very good to Caspian. He thought of the satchel of gold in his bag and wondered how the people would react if he tried to pay with them. There was no real harm in trying; he'd have to find something to eat sooner or later. In a forest he could sustain himself, but not here…

One young woman with curly brown hair, a heavy grocery bag on one arm and a bawling baby on the other was the most help to him; she knew a Mr and Mrs Pevensie that lived at Chesterfield Road five years ago, and pointed him in the right direction.

* * *

_The houses here are grand_, Caspian mused as he walked street after street. _The people inhabiting them must be rich indeed_. Most manors had yards with long straight driving lawns, short cut grass and unnatural square ponds. The first two men he met told him they had never heard of the Pevensies, but that he was on the right way to Chesterfield Road. The third, however, a blonde haired, slightly overweight man walking his dog, proved to be more useful.

"George and Helen Pevensie? I sure do know them. They used to live not two blocks from here. My daughter takes piano lessons with their youngest, Lucy." The man gave a sharp tug on the leash to keep his dog from straying, and Caspian wondered briefly what the dog would have said if it had been a Talking Beast. He cleared his mind and directed his attention to the man again.

"_Used to live_, sir? Do they not live there anymore?"

"Bombings." The man grunted. Caspian, who, despite the fact he still didn't understand what these bombs were, knew enough to be aware of their disastrous effects, looked horrified. "They're alright." The man reassured him. "But he house was damaged; half of the wall got knocked down. It's being restored right now, and in the mean time they're staying somewhere else."

"Please, sir, do you know where?" Caspian asked desperately.

"Well, I don't know their address," the man said with regret, "but I do know they now live in East Finchley." Strangely enough he pointed to the north, before he quickly seized the leash to pull back his dog again. "That's all I know."

Caspian thanked the man, and started walking in the direction he had pointed out. _It could have been worse._ Caspian mused. _He could have pointed me back in the direction where I came from_. Before he had taken three steps, there was a sudden tap on his back and he turned around to see that the man hadn't left yet.

"You LDV?" The man asked.

Caspian blinked, confused. "Excuse me?"

"Are you LDV? Did you join the Home Guard?" The man nodded at the sword at Caspian's side.

"Oh, er… well…" Caspian stammered, unsure what Home Guard was and which answer he ought to give, and ultimately decided to go along with it; "Euhm.. yes."

The man clapped him on the shoulder jovially. "Good for you, lad! I would have signed up if it weren't for my arthritis. It's about time we showed those Nazi's what we're made of." With that the man whistled for his dog and walked on, leaving Caspian to find his way north. _Nazi's? But according to Rose they were fighting against Germans…_

* * *

The sun rose high in the sky, and Caspian was still walking. According to the people on the streets—their number had grown as the hour grew later—he was on the right way to East Finchley, though more than a few asked him why he insisted to walk the way; wouldn't the car be easier? Privately, Caspian thought he would be happy if he never saw the inside of a _car _again, but instead told them he didn't own one, and that was, in fact, the truth. Luckily, the weather today wasn't as hot as it had been yesterday, and Caspian now very much appreciated the lighter clothes Rose had given him. The sun, however, was still hot and merciless. Caspian's face—burnt red when he had walked the sandy path between the houses of Rose and the Professor—now really started to hurt. However, the biggest of his worries was not the tender red skin, or, for that matter, his tired feet, but his thirst. He hadn't eaten anything since he'd left Rose's house; and the hunger he could deal with, but the thirst worried him most. There were no clean springs here, as there might have been in Narnia, but only a dirty and shallow canal by the side of the street. The water looked filthy indeed, but Caspian began to think that, soon, he might not have another choice but to drink it.

Then, his eye fell on a large sign by the road, an advertisement for a green grocer at Queens Wood, and Caspian redirected his steps. For one, the word 'Wood' promised much welcomed shadow. Also, a green grocer would have food for him, maybe they _would _accept his money. It was real gold, after all; it had to have _some _value here. And thirdly Caspian couldn't deny the lure of the word 'Queen'. His decision was made in less than a second, and he followed the arrow on the sign.

He had lost all sense of time when he finally reached the edge of the park. It was mostly grass, but there were several broad trees that cast enough shadow for several men to escape the sun, but most importantly, there was a large, clear pond. Gratefully, Caspian rushed over to cool his feet and wash his arms and face. He even took a few gulps of water, and he was so thirsty he didn't mind its bitter aftertaste. He sat down with his back against the tree trunk. Now that he was out of the sun and had most of his thirst quenched, he began to realise how hungry he was. There, across the street, was the grocer. From where he sat, Caspian could make out the melons and carrots behind the window. He dug in his bag for his gold. He had brought a lot, far more than was necessary, but he was willing to hand over everything if he could just eat _something_. Even though it was not the right currency, it had to have some value, surely? Caspian would have rested in the shadows longer, but his rumbling stomach and the gold burning in his bag soon prompted him to make his way to the grocer.

The melons and carrots, cherries and tomatoes all looked very alluring. What was he going to do if the grocer didn't accept his gold? _I could just grab something and run away_. The thought popped up briefly in his head, but Caspian pushed it away just as quickly. _No, it would do no good to steal_. He was King of Narnia, thievery was below him; he might not have much, but he still had his dignity.

Through the glass, Caspian could see someone, no doubt the grocer, stepping outside. He grabbed for his satchel with the intention of asking the man if he would accept the gold, when the man said the least thing Caspian had expected; his name.

"P- Pr… Caspian?" There was astonishment, but also a certain level of uncertainty in the voice, and Caspian's head snapped up. It's wasn't the grocer who had stepped outside.

"King Edmund!" Caspian's face broke in a wide grin when he recognised the young King and rushed forwards, thanking Aslan and all the colours in his mane. "I cannot tell you how happy I am to have found you." 'Happy' was indeed a poor description of the joy and relief Caspian felt.

Edmund's reaction was less enthusiastic, but this was, Caspian assumed, because he was very shocked to see Caspian. Here. In his own world. "Caspian!" Edmund repeated, now that he was sure it was really him. "But…what…? _Why_ are you here?"

To this Caspian had no straight answer and his broad grin faded slightly. Why was he here, really? What goal did he have? What purpose did his visit serve? Luckily for Caspian, Edmund did not wait for an answer, but asked more questions.

"Did you follow in after us? How did you find us? What _happened _to you?" At this last question Edmund looked at his clothes, and Caspian suspected he had never looked less kingly as he did right now.

"I needed to come over. There is trouble in Narnia, and-"

"And so you leave them?" Edmund cut him off, looking sceptical.

"Well, no…" Caspian objected, but his conscious said; _Yes, that I did._ "I needed to… Aslan…" He fell silent; he couldn't give describe the urge he had felt to cross the portal after his last dream in Narnia, not could he explain why he was here. He ended up feeling slightly sheepish under Edmunds sharp gaze.

Thankfully, King Edmund the Just wasn't only renowned for his sharp observation and direct manner, but also for his ability to give people the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, come on." He said, clapping Caspian on the shoulder, and his stern look made way for a more relaxed grin. "You look dreadful. You can tell us what happened when we get home. Oh, the girls will be _so _pleased to see you." Edmund chuckled slightly and led the way. Caspian followed, and couldn't help feeling slightly nervous of the reactions of the High King and the Queens…

* * *

_A/N: __Odd (and pointless) facts: Did you know that there is a street called 'Edmunds Walk' near 'Queens Wood' in East Finchley? Did you know that there was, in fact, a 17 year old King named Peter crowned in 1941? Did you know that the community newspaper of East Finchley is called 'the Archer'? Did you know that there is a statue of an archer on the roof of East Finchley Tube Station and that Jerry Springer was born at this same station during the Second World War? The things you discover when you do a little research..-_

_The usual 'thank you''s go to; BertieBottsBeans (when I say they'll meet; they'll meet ), hpswst101, Atanvarne06, Kookie-chan (was this soon enough for you?), GilbertDrone328, Dont-Stop-Believin', mary-v (:thinks: no! ;P), The Singer in White (Do you get tired of my thank-you's yet?:D), sillyprettykitty, Shining Friendship, Senini (Whoops! You're right. I hadn't thought about that at all, so I sneaked a little explanation into this chapter and I'll pretend it was my plan all along! ;D Also, nice to learn you're Dutch too (even if you can't speak it anymore), there aren't too many around!), Arandomreader, mistressbabette51 (Naturally, I couldn't have him walking around with a purse, now, eh?), enjoylife1994, captain mayhem, XoKortnayoX, mae-E and defyinggravity8504._


	10. Chapter 10

**10. ****Three in favour**

There was nothing that set the house apart from the others in the row. The doors and windows were all painted in the same dark blue. And apart from a shrub or two, all the yards were the same too; square with a low stone fence, and a patch of grass with mossy stone steps leading up to the front door. Edmund described their street as 'dull', but that wasn't what Caspian thought. The strange houses fascinated him, even after he had seen so many of them today on his search. He had wondered what the houses looked like on the inside. What kind of people lived there. The houses here looked less stately then some of the houses he'd seen on his way. Looking at this house, Caspian could never have guessed that it was the home of the legendary Kings and Queens.

"It's not much. Nothing like you're used to." Edmund said, as he opened the gate in the fence and stepped back for Caspian to walk through. "We're staying here temporarily, until we can go back to our own home." Caspian remembered what the porky blonde man had told him this morning about their home.

"What happened to it?" He asked, curiously.

"It was bombed—that's a kind of explosive device we use in war. We're lucky actually. One of the walls is heavily damaged, but the rest is still alright." He stepped through and closed the gate behind him. "Our neighbours' home was wiped away almost entirely. Mother is having our house restored, and we live _here _for the duration." A shadow passed over Edmund's face briefly, but he shook it of, and suddenly grinned. "This is going to be good." He jerked his head in to direction of the house, and quickly walked the steps to the front door. With a bit of a flutter, Caspian walked after him_. Behind that door…_

… was a narrow hallway. It wouldn't be narrow, except for the large white staircase that took up most of the space. The walls were painted a faded green, and there hung a single black and white picture of a proud-looking man sitting on a chair. This picture, Caspian noticed as he stepped inside, was remarkably good. _I can't even see the paint strokes. _He started when Edmund unexpectedly shouted.

"I'm back!" The shouting seemed to have been directed at nobody in particular, and Caspian looked at him confused, but Edmund merely grinned. "And I brought a visitor!" He added in the same loud voice. Caspian froze when he head movement upstairs, and Edmund calmly proceeded to unpack the grocery bags in a cupboard under the stairs.

"Who is it?" A curious voice came from upstairs; Caspian tensed. _Susan!_

"Caspian!" Edmund shouted back merrily, winking at the young King in the process. Caspian's eyes flew to the top of the stairs. Any second now, and she would appear there…

An exasperated sigh sounded, followed by several dull _'thump's_. "You're not funny, Ed. Did you bring the rhubarb I asked-" As she spoke, Susan had appeared at the top of the stairs. She did not immediately see Caspian, looking at the steps of the stairs instead, and therefore she had already descended a fair bit when she froze in her tracks as she locked eyes with Caspian.

Caspian's breath hitched. She looked so different from the last time he had seen her; She had been wearing a richly decorated dress at the time, but now she was dressed in the same grey skirt and white blouse he had seen on other girls in the street. The blouse was untucked and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun—Caspian thought she looked beautiful.

Caspian waited nervously for her response, but Susan did nothing. Instead it was Edmund who broke the silence, three red sticks of rhubarb in his hand. "If I wasn't King of Narnia, this would be a perfect opportunity to say 'I told you-" He was cut short when Peter appeared at the top of the stairs, and responded much quicker than his sister did.

"Caspian!" His voice, ringing with surprise, shook Susan into action.

"Is it really you?" She asked in a uncertain voice. Caspian felt a sudden mad urge to shout _'Surprise!'_, but instead he nodded, and Susan's face broke into the wide smile he had dreamed of for months. She bounded down the stairs, clearing the way for Peter to follow, halting just in front of him. "How can you be here? Did you follow through after us? If we'd known, we would have waited for you at the tube."

Susan's reaction reassured Caspian, and his anxiousness made way for relief. "No, I didn't follow after you. It's been months in Narnia since you left."

"_Months_?" Susan blinked. "We only got back yesterday afternoon."

Caspian was silent for a bit, trying to understand how he could have arrived in this world on the same day even though over four months had passed in Narnia.

"Why did you come here? Did something happen in Narnia?" Peter was standing on the bottom step of the stairs, looking worried. "Do you need our help?"

Caspian opened his mouth to reply, when he was cut short by Edmund. "How about we discuss that in the living room?" The youngest King suggested. "This hallway is awfully narrow."

And so Caspian found himself swept through the doorway and into the living room. The living was painted the same shade of green, but it looked much livelier here. The long flowery curtains by the windows were shut—probably, Caspian guessed, to block the sunlight, and it added to the cheerful chaos inside. The room wasn't exactly messy, but crowded. As though they had too many possessions to fit into the cabinets. And that, Caspian realised later, was probably also the case. At Susan's indication, he sat down on a brown armchair and let his eyes travel across the room. There were small paintings everywhere; on the coffee table, the mantle, the walls and the bookcase. They seemed to have been made in the same flawless style as the one in the hallway, and Caspian wanted to take a closer look, but decided it was better to respond to the point Peter had raised.

"Narnia isn't in trouble." Caspian told Peter, who was looking at him intently. "That doesn't mean there is no trouble in Narnia, though." He added after a thought.

Edmunds brow knit together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well… I'm afraid the Telmarines and Narnians don't get along very well." Caspian rubbed the back of his head and started explaining all that had happened since their departure; the discontent, the riots, the death of Eius the Lynx, the failed plan, and eventually the hopeless situation he was in now. As he spoke, he noticed how Edmund became thoughtful, Susan's expression grew sad and Peter set his jaw. It couldn't be easy for them, Caspian realised, to hear all this and know there was nothing they could do to help.

"But you didn't come over to ask for hep?" Peter asked again when Caspian had finished.

Caspian shook his head. "I know that there is nothing you can-"

"Then why are you here?"

"Peter!" Susan scolded. "Don't be rude."

"No, I mean it, Susan." Peter gripped the armrests of his chair and suddenly looked very much like the High King that he was. "If Narnia is in such trouble, then why did he leave?" He looked away from his sister and instead focussed of Caspian, who felt his stomach clench. "Who's taking care of Narnia now?" He demanded.

"I left Professor Cornelius in charge." Caspian replied quickly. "He'll take good care of them."

Peter sank back in his chair, exasperated, and Edmund spoke in his place. "Professor Cornelius is a Telmarine. The Narnians won't trust him, _or _accept his authority."

"He's part Narnian." Caspian contradicted. "His mother was a Black Dwarf."

"That's even worse." Edmund sat down on the armrest of Peter's chair. "The Narnians will consider him a traitor."

"Well…" Caspian looked at Susan for support, but she looked uncertain and said nothing. "I have full confidence in the Professor. He is wise and he knows what the people need."

"If the Professor were so splendid, Aslan would have made _him _King." Peter said scathingly, and Caspian bit in his tongue in annoyance. He felt he deserved some kind of reprimand from the High King, but the disrespectful way Peter spoke about Professor Cornelius didn't sit well with Caspian. His beloved tutor had done nothing to deserve it. "We didn't find a war and lost many lives to put you on the throne just to have you abandon it when things get hard."

"What are you implying?" Caspian's growing indignation battled the respect and admiration he had for Peter. "That I don't care about my people? Or that I am a coward?"

"Oh, let's not do this!" Susan said, looking back and forth between the arguing Kings. "Stop it, both of you."

"Maybe I'm implying both." Peter said, ignoring his sister and causing Caspian to get on his feet.

"You have no idea the lengths I have gone to in order to solve the problem. I haven't had a proper night sleep in months. Don't tell me I don't care about my people, Peter. They are all I care about!" A small traitor voice I the back of his head told him this wasn't entirely true; he had done a fair bit of obsessing over the Kings and Queens as well, and half of his disturbed nights were because of his dreams. But Caspian pushed the voice out of his mind, and hoped it hadn't shown on his face. "I am not a coward." He said in a low voice. "It there was a real, tangible threat, I would be out fighting right now, and I wouldn't rest until it was defeated. But this… distrust… I can't fight that. I want to, but I don't know how."

"And so you decide _leaving _was the best solution?" Peter's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Tell me, Caspian. If it wasn't cowardice, then what _did _bring you here?"

Caspian thought of the cave, the tree, the countless dreams, the midnight strolls, the urge he had felt to go there, to pass the portal… "Because I _had_ to." He was aware how irrational he sounded and felt the need to explain. "I felt it was the right thing—the _only _thing—to do."

Peter was not convinced. "Well, that clears _that _up." He laughed mirthlessly. "Maybe you felt like it was the right thing, because you _wanted _it." Caspian didn't reply, and Peter continued, crossing his arms. "I think you came all the way over here, simply because you wanted to see Susan."

Caspian gaped. "I… well… No! That's not true." He stammered.

"Isn't it? We all know how you feel about my sister. You just had a rough time and you wanted Susan for comfort, didn't you?"

"No, that wasn't what I meant at all!" Caspian's mind reeled from the turn their discussion had taken. He hadn't meant to drag Susan into this. Looking to his left, Caspian saw she looked red and embarrassed.

"Well, you can't use her that way." Peter continued as though Caspian had said nothing. "I won't allow it."

"Stop it, Peter. Now." Susan's voice was a lot quieter than it had been the previous time she'd tried to break up the argument, but the threatening undertone finally caused Peter to listen to his sister. "That is none of your business."

"Su, he's just going to end up hurting you again!"

"I would do no such thing." Caspian said, aghast. "Never!"

"Yes, you will. You won't be staying you know; this isn't your world. You'll just get her hopes up and then you'll leave again." Even though Peter was talking to Caspian, he looked at Susan. "Don't you see that?"

"I will decide what I do with my own life." Susan said coldly.

Everybody had been so engrossed in their argument that none of them had heard the creaking front door close, and consequently they were unaware somebody had entered the house until this somebody spoke up. "What are you lot all shouting about?" The small frame of Lucy appeared in the doorway, and Caspian had never been more happy to see her smiling face. She halted for a moment when she saw Caspian, before her face broke in a wide grin. "Caspian!" she squealed, and ran towards him to fling her arms around his waist. Caspian was slightly taken aback by her enthusiasm, but patted her on the back fondly. "Oh, it _is _nice to see you again!"

"I'm glad to hear that." Caspian tried, and failed, to keep the bitter undertone out of his voice, and Lucy quickly picked up on it.

"What do you mean?" Lucy said curiously, pulling back.

"Well…" Susan shot an accusing look at his eldest brother. "Peter just showed Caspian a really poor welcome."

"I am just saying," Peter said hotly to defend himself, "that it was a bad idea for him to leave Narnia when they obviously need him!"

"Oh, do stop being a bully." Lucy put her small hands on her sides and frowned at Peter. Caspian would have found this picture amusing, if he hadn't been so surprised at what she was saying. "If coming here were such a bad thing, Aslan wouldn't have let him."

"Aslan?" Susan repeated.

"Yes! It's Aslan who decides who crosses the portal, not us. We could only go there when we were called, and Caspian could never get here unless he was sent. I'm sure Aslan knows what he is doing."

"It was Caspian, not Aslan, who called us last time." Peter pointed out. "And he just told us he got in through the wardrobe. As far as we know that exit has always been open. Aslan might not have had anything to do with it. And it was Caspian, not Aslan, who decided he should leave."

But that wasn't true, Caspian realised. How many times has Aslan been standing next to the tree in his dream, nodding in consent whenever Caspian wondered if he should step through? _Maybe Lucy is right… maybe it wasn't my decision after all. Maybe I felt I had to go so strongly because Aslan wanted me to._

"Whether it was Aslan or not, we ought to be a little more hospitable to Caspian. He's been travelling for over a day and I doubt he's had a proper meal since he left." Susan settled the argument for the time being, and Peter walked out of the room looking cross.

"Oh, dear." Lucy said, at the same time as Edmund got to his feet.

"I'll go after him." He made to follow his elder brother, but turned around again after a few steps. "Oh, and Caspian? Welcome to Finchley." Edmund smiled, and Caspian was relieved to see that he at least had the approval of one of the critical Kings. "Lucy knows Aslan better than anyone. I can't remember her ever being wrong about him." Then Edmund walked out of the room after Peter, leaving Caspian with Lucy and Susan.

"I'm sorry." Caspian muttered. "I didn't mean to cause such an argument."

Susan waved it away. "Peter will turn around. We only just got back from Narnia, being High King is still all he thinks about. I think the most important thing right now it for you to have dinner." She walked to the table, where Edmund had left the rhubarb, and walked to the kitchen.

Caspian made to follow her, but Lucy tugged on his sleeve. "And maybe a bath." She whispered.

* * *

_A/N: Wow, keeping the Pevensies in character and writing their reactions wasn't easy! :wipes brow: I have to thank Phoenke for her encouragement… she's the reason I kept at it the past few days and didn't give in to the temptation of wasting time on the net. Also, I thank: _

_GilbertDrone328, hpswst101, The Singer in White ( Edmund said that because had knew how Peter was going to react.), Don't-Stop-Believin', XoKortnayoX, Miyako Cullen, liz22463, FireSenshi2, Senini (Yes, I didn't want to drag the search-part out too long, this seemed like the right moment to cut Caspian some slack.), mae-E (I hope you like the way I solved the points you raised.), GreysAddict21, Shining Friendship, mistressbabette51, captain mayhem (Well, no faint. But I hope this will work too…), Arandomreader, lil-ying-fa, purplemachine (Thank you, I always like to hear that! :D ), BertieBottsBeans, Grey Blade (:D What does it take to make the list?), emeraldteardrops (Yay, you! :D Yes, I planned Edmunds reaction carefully. It would be unrealistic to assume they all would be fine with it.), enjoylife1994, RodentOfUnusualSize (Good old-fashioned wikipdia (-: ) and Aninha Weasley for taking the time to review._

_Then, I end this chapter with a bit of plugging. Remember the Caspian/Susan website I told you about a few chapters back? Well, they now have an awesome forum too. So, if you haven't gone over there to check it out yet, I highly recommend it. Lots of great people spreading the Casue love! You can find a link to the website at the bottom of my bio._

_Love, the Fluffy One_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Sorry it took me so long. This was not an easy one. I have a couple of things to say. First and foremost I have finally decided to get a beta; this fic is getting too big to pass as just a little thing anymore. My never ending gratitude to **Sedri** for making time for me and nitpicking on my comma's. Darling, you are magnificent. Yes, I said magnificent. Like Peter. High Beta, Beta of all Betas... I added some changes after she last saw it so any mistakes you see are mine... not hers. Then, secondly, after last chapter there have been several threats to Peter's life, and as much as those amuse me: cut the poor boy some slack. He's not the bad guy in the story._

* * *

**11. ****Pipes and Maps**

Caspian frowned. "Where does the hot water come from?"

He was standing in a small room with white tiles on the walls and floors. Some things in here Caspian recognised—such as the sink and the bathtub—while others were new to him; the chair with the hole in it looked very strange indeed. Currently he was looking at the bathtub, and Lucy had just shown him the metal knobs that could produce water. Lucy called them _taps_, which Caspian found strange because you had to turn them, and not tap them, if you wanted them to work.

"There are pipes in the walls and floors and under the houses," Lucy explained. "The taps are just the endings."

"But then where do the pipes get it?"

Lucy shut her mouth and furrowed her brow. "I don't know…" she admitted after a while. "You'd have to ask Peter."

"Ask me what?" Peter's voice drifted from the hallway, and Caspian and Lucy turned in time to see him poke his head through the doorway. His eyes found Caspian and his expression turned a little sour. Caspian looked away quickly.

"Where the water comes from." Lucy was either oblivious to the sudden tension, or she had decided to ignore it, because her voice sounded as bright as always.

"From the water purification plant, Lu," Peter answered curtly. "They filter it, clean it, and transport it to us."

"And the hot water?" Lucy inquired.

"We have a boiler in the attic."

Lucy smiled at Caspian and raised her eyebrows in a way that clearly said; 'Well, there you go', and Peter's face disappeared from the doorway. With a swift thank-you to Lucy, Caspian quickly followed him. Peter had only taken a few steps was Caspian caught up with him.

'Er, Peter? I was wondering if you could help me with something?" Caspian felt thoroughly uncomfortable asking a favour from somebody who was clearly unhappy with his presence, and if it hadn't been necessary, he would have avoided it. But Caspian could not see a way around it.

Peter turned around, and looked at Caspian questioningly.

"You see, the problem is, I didn't bring any clothes," Caspian said sheepishly. "I only have one pair of Narnian clothes, and _this _ was given to me by Rose—an old lady I met on the way—but it is filthy now, and I was wondering if I could-"

"Borrow some?" Peter finished his question for him, and Caspian nodded. "I don't think you'd fit in my clothes," Peter replied promptly. "Or Edmund's."

Caspian grimaced. He'd have to wash these and wear his too hot Narnian attire in the mean time.

"But I think you are about my father's size," Peter unexpectedly continued and he walked past Caspian to a door just opposite the bathroom. Caspian was invited in with a small jerk of the head.

It was strange, but Caspian had never given their parents a thought before. The Kings and Queens; they were iconic—_legendary—_their deeds literally spread over ages. Caspian had always subconsciously assumed they had always been this way; youthful and wise. He entered the bedroom solemnly, as if he were treading holy ground. Even if he'd heard nothing about Mr and Mrs Pevensie, their parentage alone demanded great respect; they must be great people indeed to have raised the four splendid Kings and Queens.

Most of the space in the room was taken up by a large bed with white covers. Matching curtains hung from a large window that looked out on row after row of houses similar to the one he was currently in. The paper on the walls were cream-colored, and illustrated with some kind of purple flower; no doubt Mrs Pevensie's taste. Peter paid no attention to the room, but walked straight to the wardrobe. If fact, Caspian would have thought Peter was trying to ignore him until the latter suddenly spoke up.

"You must think I dislike you, because I was less than thrilled to see you," Peter said, turning around with his arms full of clothes. Caspian made himself meet the High King's eyes and nodded. "I don't." Peter dropped the clothes on the bed and leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed. "But I do not regret what I said."

Caspian, who had been in the process of reaching for the clothes, pulled back. The clothes could wait; this needed to be straightened out first. But he did not say anything yet, giving Peter the opportunity to explain himself.

"As High King the wellbeing of the Narnians is important to me above all else; something like this I cannot ignore. I am well aware that I am the only one of my siblings who thinks this way, but I cannot change my opinion."

Caspian nodded, nervous but also relieved that Peter had breached the subject. "I understand your opinion," he said earnestly. "And I think that, if I had been in your place, my reaction would have been similar. I wish I could say I regret coming here, but I would be lying. I wish I had a way of explaining my conviction that what I did was right."

Peter was silent for a bit, and then nodded too. "I see. Do you agree with my sister's theory that it was Aslan that send you here?"

"It would certainly explain, yes," Caspian said, truthfully.

Peter started pacing as he replied. "I know that my sister understands the ways of Narnia. Better, perhaps, than the rest of us do. But I cannot help but thinking that, even if it was by Aslan's will and approval that you came here, it was your own decision to leave."

Caspian had to think back for a moment to the last time he had woken up in Narnia. He could not remember having consciously taken the decision to go. It had haunted him for months and he had simply woken that night, convinced beyond all doubt. But it would be untrue to say Aslan had decided for him. After all, Caspian's whim hadn't paid off; the tree had sealed itself. It was Caspian, and Caspian alone, who had taken matters into his own hands and had gone to Lantern Waste. He could have stopped if he'd felt it was wrong. "Yes," he therefore answered. "Yes, that it was."

"Then I cannot help but hold you partially responsible for leaving Narnia." Peter's expression was stern, but Caspian could find no trace of anger in it, and for that he was grateful. He had hoped for the approval of the High King—the one he had always idolized most—but if acceptance was all he could have then he ought to be grateful. "But I could have been more graceful when I said this the first time. I don't wish for our disagreement to be the cause of strife. If Aslan has allowed you to come here, then so shall I."

Caspian knew a peace offering when he saw one, and extended his hand. "Thank you, Peter," he said, when Peter took it.

* * *

It is remarkable how much better a meal tastes when one has been hungry for a long time. No offence to Susan's cooking skill, but Caspian was used to dining like a royal. Yet the rhubarb that Susan had prepared seemed to him the best thing he had ever tasted. Likewise, Mr Pevensie's clothes were exceedingly comfortable after the tight and too-short outfit he had gotten from Rose, and he was very much aware of the fact how _clean _he was now. In fact, the only thing that was remotely uncomfortable was the skin on his face and neck, which had been burnt in the hot sun. But this, too, would fade in a few days. For the first time since his arrival, Caspian allowed himself to relax.

The atmosphere at the table was slightly tense; despite his talk with Peter, the air hadn't been entirely cleared. The eldest still didn't approve of Caspian's presence, even if he grudgingly accepted it, and though he clearly attempted to keep the conversation going, it was obvious to everyone. Luckily there was more than enough to talk about over dinner, so much in fact, that Caspian found that eating was progressing very slowly, and that diner took much longer than it usually did. He was pressed to tell more about what had happened in Narnia since their farewell almost five months ago—Lucy in particular wanted to know how Trumpkin was faring—and all of them seemed to have an opinion on the political problems of Narnia. Caspian, however, was much more interested in this new world he found himself into, and gradually the conversation changed in his favour.

"Are you at war?" was Caspian's first question.

Edmund nodded, looking sombre. "And not just us—England I mean. It's a big one, this war, loads of other countries are involved too."

Lucy suddenly got up quickly. "Wait, I'll get a map," she said, and then ran off.

Edmund watched her leave for a second before he continued. "Many different countries have formed alliances, and there is two large groups now."

Caspian tried to picture this in his own world. He knew the countries near Narnia; Galma, Archenland, Calormen, Ettinsmoor, but the lands beyond that were unknown to him. Like most Telmarines, he didn't even know the exact location of Telmar. Was a war of this scale possible?

Lucy returned with a map soon, and Caspian was stunned to realise exactly how many countries there were, but also to find that they were all known and inhabited…

"This is England." Lucy, who stood next to Caspian's chair, had laid the map on the table in front of him—Susan had pulled Caspian's plate out of the way before the back of the map was smeared with rhubarb—and tapped at the larger of two small islands. "That's where we are now." She climbed onto Peter's lap and snuggled comfortably against him.

"Yes, and this is Germany, Japan, Italy…" Peter pointed out several other countries, whose names Caspian forgot as soon as they were mentioned. "Those are the biggest opponents. They call themselves the _Axis_."

"And we're the Allies," Lucy added with a yawn.

"What's the war about?" Caspian inquired, staring at the foreign looking map.

"What are wars usually about?" Susan, who had stayed rather quiet suddenly replied. "Power. Land. Delusions of grandeur. The war is more a combination of various smaller wars, and the countries decided to join forces to get stronger. It's kind of complicated."

"So, why is England fighting?" Caspian looked up from the map and fixed his eyes on Susan instead. Susan pulled up a chair next to him, and Caspian tried not to think about his proximity to her. Especially not under the watchful eyes of both her brothers. Instead he focussed on what she was explaining.

"After the first World War—there was one before—Germany-" she pointed at a country that had been mentioned before, "-lost a lot. The winners of that last war—which is us and France, for the most part—made a treaty so they couldn't grow stronger again."

"They broke it," Edmund added. "They have this leader, Hitler, and he's leading them all to war. They want to rule the whole of Europe, thinking they are some kind of superior race. They already took many countries, including France." Edmund winced slightly. "That was a harsh blow."

"And they want us too," Susan took over again. "Since we live on an island, most of the fighting is done in the sky," she elaborated when Caspian raised a confused eyebrow. "We invented machines to make us fly."

"Really?" Caspian said, impressed. "I must remember to tell the Professor this." Susan smiled and Caspian's heart fluttered slightly. Whether or not anyone had noticed the look on his face, he didn't know, but his sudden _thump_ caused Caspian to look away from Susan. The thump had been Lucy's head, when it hit the wooden table.

"Bed," Peter said decidedly. Caspian was surprised to notice it was getting dark outside. Their conversation over dinner had taken them a long time indeed.

"But I'm not tired," Lucy objected, yawning.

"Yes, you are," Peter said fondly. "Come along."

There was a scraping of chairs, and a minute later Peter and Lucy had left the room… and so had Edmund. Caspian never saw him leave, and hadn't even noticed it until Susan shouted, "Ed! Ed, come back here!"

There was no reply, and Susan huffed in indignation. "He does that every day; sneaks out whenever there is cleaning to be done. Always just, except when it comes down to the dishes." She pursed her lips disapprovingly, and snatched up the bowl that had held the rhubarb earlier in the evening.

"I can help in his place," Caspian offered, but Susan waved it off quickly.

"Oh, Caspian, you don't have to. You're a _guest_," she added. "Edmund needs to do his own-"

"It's no problem," Caspian insisted, and he picked up two plates. "I _want _to help." The look on Susan's face, and way she avoided to meet his eyes, caused him to lower the plates slightly. "Unless you are uncomfortable around me." He was aware of being a little too straightforward, but he couldn't help himself. She has been friendly enough since his arrival, but it seemed to Caspian that she was slightly avoiding him.

"Not at all!" Susan exclaimed, but Caspian noticed she still didn't fully look him in the eye. "Of course you can help, if you want." She scurried to the kitchen, and Caspian followed after. Something about her was off; she wasn't the confident Queen he had met in Narnia. She was reluctant and… _timid_. Had he misinterpreted her? Did she regret what had been said and done in Narnia?

Caspian entered the kitchen a few seconds after Susan and put the plates in the sink, where there was already a fair pile of dirty dishes. The kitchen was painted a creamy white. It had the same kind of tiles that Caspian had been in the bathroom, but only above the stove. A wooden cabinet in the corner held clean dishes, and Caspian turned around again to take in more of the room when, to his surprise, he found that Susan was standing quite close to him. He had expected her to slip out of the kitchen quietly—not wanting to be alone with him—but there she still was. She was looking away, but her stance was rigid, and she seemed to be very much aware of him.

"This is new to me." It came out as a blurt, and Susan herself seemed surprised that she had spoken. The patterns on the wall couldn't be nearly as interesting as Susan seemed to find them, and the lack of eye contact made Caspian yearn to lift her chin with his finger, but he didn't want to frighten her.

"What do you mean?" he asked instead, studying her face. "What's new?"

"_This_…" Susan replied, and very briefly tore her eyes away from the wall to meet his. She quickly dropped them again. "You," she added, and Caspian understood. It was for him too, to a certain degree. There had been women, daughters of dukes and other noblemen, that had expressed their interest in him. Miraz had encouraged Caspian to court them. That was, until Prunaprismia was revealed to be pregnant and might grant Miraz' an heir. Admittedly, he had liked some of them, but none of them had ever made his heart jump to his throat just by looking in his direction. He searched for a reply; a way to reassure her… or maybe a cleverly placed joke to lift the tension, but found that he needn't to.

"I didn't mean to make you think you were unwelcome." She looked nervous and bit her lip before she continued. "I just didn't know what to do…" Without words, Caspian lifted her chin with a finger.

It was a wrong move; Susan's eyes widened, and she recoiled. Caspian, who had been about to smile in what he hoped had been an encouraging smile, suddenly found himself searching for the right words. "Susan, you don't have to… I mean, we…" He pulled a hand through his hair in frustration when Susan took a step back. "I-I am just as nervous I'll say or do the wrong things as you are." As soon as the words left his mouth he closed his eyes, berating himself and wishing he had said something else. He was trying to _reassure _her, not make everything even more insecure. Therefore he was surprised to see she was smiling when he opened his eyes.

"You are?" Caspian didn't fully understand the surprised and pleased tone in her voice, but he was happy enough that his words had somehow worked. He nodded.

"I don't like feeling I might ruin things if I say something wrong. I won't mind if _you_ do something wrong, so you don't have to be nervous like that around me."

"No need to be nervous around me either," Susan said. Her voice was still shy, but she smiled and met his eye this time. Caspian smiled the encouraging smile he'd wanted to give her before, and was encouraged himself when he saw it worked.

"In that case, we should agree to not be nervous about each other and just say and do what we want."

Susan nodded. "Agreed." She paused for a second and then added. "When I… when we left, I didn't think I'd see you again, so… I know I was too forward, but I thought I'd never get the change again, so I might as well…"

"Kiss me?" Caspian said with half a smile, and Susan nodded. "Then maybe we should imagine we won't have another chance more oft-"

He was cut short, not by the dull thumps of footsteps, but by the loud voice of Susan that followed when she unexpectedly shouted; "Ed! Dishes!" A deep and resigned sigh sounded from the hallway. Susan smiled smugly, and Caspian was happy to see a twinkle in her eye.

"Looks like I won't have to clean those in his place anymore."

"You're welcome to." Caspian looked at the door; Edmund's footsteps were getting closer, but he'd much rather the Just King would give them a little more time. Then he felt the soft pressure of a light kiss on his cheek. Caspian's head snapped towards her.

"I'm glad you came here." Susan's voice was hardly more than a whisper, and Caspian was unable to reply when Edmund opened the door and sulked in.

If Edmund had waited just a second longer, Caspian would have told her that he felt going here was the best thing he had done since blowing the horn.

* * *

_A/N: The usual thanks go to; The Singer in White (I'm very much looking forward to writing it, and hope it'll pass as realistic), hpswst101 (You're absolutely right. There is much more, but we won't find out everything all at once.), RodentOfUnusualSize, liz22463, GreysAddict21, miss nen yim, wildpartyhouse247 (XD Thanks!), mae-E (You're on the right track, that's all I'm saying.), Reader of too many books, diva.devine (The opinions vary of that subject, yes.), Shining Friendship, Captain Mayhem, host, GilbertDrone328, PinkSlytherin, ElisabethAnne, lauralee2 (I couldn't reply to you personally since your review was anon. You can find the website at w w w . c a s p i a n a n d s u s a n . c o m, and you'll find a link to the forum at the top of the site.), mistressbabette51 (I love your reviews!), burstingfruits (Welcome on board, and no, you do not suck. (-: ), XoKortnayoX (Staying true to character was the biggest challenge in that chapter. I'm glad it worked out.), Aninha Weasley (I hope Peter redeemed himself in your eyes again.), ViWiel, acacia59601)._

_:skips away happily:_

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: A big fat apology for all who have been waiting all this time; Sorry it took so long to get my ass in gear! I hit a solid brick wall with no way past it (or so I thought), and it is only because of the combined efforts of Em (who kept poking me) and Sedri (who brainstormed with me) that I managed to finish the chapter at all... I'm very grateful to have such encouraging friends._..

_But I have you to thank too... every review you sent was another encouragement to get on with it. So thank you; acacia59601, Shining Friendship, Soweird66 (That's always very good to heard. :beams:), liz22463, The Singer in White (Just avoiding. ;-) A Just king shouldn't have to do his own dishes, now should he?), Sedri, GilbertDrone328, Aninha Weasley, RodentOfUnusualSize, Lauralee2, Mae-E, Captain Mayhem, Kookie-chan, Melwa Elena (Welcome aboard! SO you're new huh. You've got a lot to look forward to then...), hpswst101, mistressbabette51, jackiez32, enjoylife1994, mary-v, Eowyn Shadeslayer and SachaWPevensie._

* * *

**12. Books and paintings**

"Oh, must we really go?" Lucy tugged on Susan's sleeve with a pleading look. "Why can't we stay home today? It's not fair that we should leave a guest."

Caspian, who had watched the Pevensie family ready themselves for a school day from a small distance, suddenly felt all eyes on him.

"Oh, come on," Lucy pleaded. "Can't we stay with Caspian?"

Susan didn't reply, but seemed torn, and Caspian was secretly glad to see it. She didn't seem to think being around Caspian as intimidating as she had yesterday. Susan was spared an answer when it was Peter who replied.

"You know we can't, Lu," he said as he slung a large, square leather bag over his shoulder. We can't just stay away from school. It doesn't do to just drop all you're your duties and responsibilities, just because you _want _something." There was an edge to his voice, and in light of their recent argument, Caspian felt the comment was directed at him instead of the youngest Queen. Peter had the grace to look a little sheepish, obviously aware of how his words had sounded, and hurried to add; "Remember what mum said about education being the key to a good life?"

At the mention of their mother, all of four of the Pevensies were temporarily silent, and Caspian felt awkward. He had asked Edmund about their whereabouts after they had finished the dishes the previous evening; if the four of them were truly nothing more than children in this world then surely they would have to be accompanied by an parent? Edmund had told him in hushed tones about their father who had joined the army to fight the war, and about their mother, who had not been waiting on Kings Cross when the Pevensies returned from they stay at the (now ruined) mansion of Professor Kirke, and how she was considered missing since that day. Susan and Peter were legal adults, and perfectly capable of taking care of their younger siblings—they had all been adults, after all—but it was a painful subject which was usually avoided.

"Will you be all right?" Susan looked at Caspian broke the silence. "We won't be home late; they let us go early on Fridays…"

"With all the books you left him, Su, I doubt he'll even notice we're gone." Edmund grinned at Caspian, who couldn't help but grin back; the Just King was starting to grow on him.

Susan ignored her brother and kept looking at Caspian. "You can grab something to eat when you get hungry. There's bread in the cupboard, and I think there is some vegetable soup left from Wednesday…"

"I'll be fine," Caspian assured her with an amused smile. "Don't worry… I have those, er, _novels _you gave me…"

"See, the man says he'll be fine, Su." Edmund steered a reluctant Susan towards the front door. "Can we go now, please? We'll be late."

"Yes, that we will," Peter joined in. "Don't give me that look, Lu. It won't work."

With a last promise of a quick return, the door closed and once again Caspian found himself alone in a world he didn't know. But the thought wasn't as daunting as it had been last time. For one, there was plenty of food and water here, not to mention he no longer needed to trudge for hours through the blistering sun. He was looking forward to explore on his own for a bit; as much as he liked them, the Kings and Queens were rather _loud._

Their voices hadn't even properly died away when Caspian turned around and reached for the object had had wanted to examine more closely even since he arrived; the small, square painting that hung by the umbrella stand. His trailed the cool and smooth surface, and Caspian could see, even through the glass, that there were no paint strokes at all. _Marvellous! _It was as if the paper itself was colored in the shape of the most realistic illustration he had ever seen. How did they get it to do that? Caspian flipped the frame over, but the back held nothing interesting, so he turned it around to look again. Who was this proud looking man staring at him from the frame? He made a mental note to ask about it as he hung the picture back on the wall, and walked into the living room.

He let his eyes roam around now finally having enough time to properly take it in. He glanced over the dinner table, the crammed bookshelves, the cluttered mess next to a large plant with long thin leaves Caspian wasn't familiar with and finally rested on the small pile of books that Susan had left for him on the end table near the couch. Caspian picked up the one on top. The title was unfamiliar to him—as was the author—but that was to be expected. Even if he had grown up in this world, he had never been fond of reading; as Professor Cornelius' pupil he had only ever read books because of their educational value, and had always preferred practical lessons. Swordmanship couldn't be taught from theory only, and why should he plough through dusty old history books when his Professor would take him to the castle towers at midnight to tell him of the legends of old? Susan had been confident in her declaration that these book, however, were among the very best. As he still had a long stretch of time left to kill, Caspian sat down, and started reading.

He gave it up after ten minutes; he found Mrs Bennet rather silly, and could not relate to her desire to marry off all of her daughters. Closing the book with a sigh, Caspian eyed the others left of the table. He could attempt the next, but it might be akin to this one. Leaving the books next to him, Caspian got up with a sigh. In Narnia, he would use these free moments to train his sword skills, but there was no practising arena here. Or, indeed, an opponent to practise with.

Instead, Caspian started to wander through the house. He took time to examine the objects in the living room that he was as of yet unfamiliar with. They were plentiful, especially in the kitchen. Caspian found a number of strange-looking devices and he greatly amused himself by trying to imagine what they could be for. He also noticed a _radio_, not unlike the one he had seen in Rose's house, but decided against switching it on; he clearly remembered what had happened last time.

Within the hour Caspian had examined, prodded and poked all that he hadn't been familiar with, and proceeded to explore the upper floors.

The first floor, Caspian knew, had four doors and a second stairway. Two of these led to the bathroom and Mr and Mrs Pevensie's bedroom, but this was also the floor of Susan and Lucy's rooms. His, along with the rooms of Peter and Edmund, was on the second floor; they had turned the study into a guest room and made a bed out of a _stretcher_. It was nowhere as comfortable as his bed in his castle, but considering the circumstances, it was more than he could possibly ask for.

Caspian hesitated for a moment when he reached the top of the stairs and grasped the doorknob right in front of him. Painted wooded letters spelled 'Lucy' and he pushed the door open; he was sure Lucy wouldn't mind.

The room was painted in a soft and cheerful yellow, and was quite a mess. Books and clothes lay scattered on the floor, and the bed was unmade; Nurse would have had a few things to say about that. But she wasn't here, and Caspian—who thought the cheerfully chaotic room fit the bubbling personality of the youngest Queen—smiled as he looked around him.

There were many paintings and drawings in the room, pinned to the wall or framed on shelves. By the look of it they were made by Lucy herself, and they were rather good for someone of her age, but Caspian didn't notice that. He took a step closer to the nearest picture that hung on the wall right next to the door. While the brightly coloured painting was less than accurate and somewhat out of proportion, it bore a strong resemblance to the illustration of Cair Paravel in the Professor's old history book. Caspian's eyes swept over the turrets and the majestic North Tower and sighed; it looked somewhat different nowadays. He tore his gaze away and focussed instead on the other paintings and drawings in the room. He noticed another picture of Cair Paravel—though not nearly as detailed as the one on the wall—as well as a drawing that looked eerily like the Stone Table back at the How, which hung right next to a lantern in the snow. But most of all Caspian saw Aslan; running, roaring, or simply looking majestic; Lucy had tried to capture his grandeur with strong streaks of gold in his mane. It hadn't quite worked; having met Aslan, Caspian knew these paintings—while very good—were a mere shadow of the real Aslan, yet he couldn't help but smile at Lucy's obvious devotion.

The room next to Lucy's was the bathroom, and the bedroom next to that was Susan's. Susan's room was of a creamy while colour, with lavender touches. Caspian smiled as he stepped in and looked around. The room _smelled _of her; a faint whiff of something familiar he couldn't quite identify. It was tidy; Susan was clearly must more careful about her belongings than her younger sister. The only place where her belongings seemed to be out of place was the desk, where papers, pencils and a book lay scattered around. Above the desk hung a prominent painting of Aslan. Caspian stepped a little closer; this was undoubtedly Lucy's best Aslan. His proportions were a little off, true, but his eyes seemed alive and his stare was almost as penetrating as the real Lion's. Caspian felt he ought to look away and focused instead on the desk. Several papers covered its the surface; Caspian picked one up but couldn't make much sense of it; clearly this one some kind of assignment for her study, but the mathematic calculations were foreign to him. He picked up the book that lay next to it, expecting it to be a study book too, and started when he realised it wasn't. Instead it seemed to be some sort of log, containing Susan's personal thoughts rather than calculus. Blood rushed to his face when Caspian read about himself. He felt he ought to put the book back down—it was obviously not meant to be read—but he was much too fascinated by it. Undoubtedly this book could answer questions he didn't dare ask her, and she would not return for several hours at least. She would never know….

Caspian sat down on the chair slowly, flipping though the pages. Susan missed the old days in Narnia and struggled with her new life. She tried to take care of her siblings in the absence of their parents—Peter was no help—and come to terms with the fact that she was n longer a Queen. As engrossed as Caspian was in the book, the read was uneasily. He shifted as he sat and, even though it wasn't nearly time, Caspian strained his eyes for any sounds that might mean that the family had returned earlier than expected. The portrait of Aslan stared at him and the penetrating eyes seemed accusing. Suddenly feeling very guilty, Caspian closed the book with a snap; it was not his to read. Taking care to put it back exactly the way he had found it, Caspian left the room, not meeting Aslan's eyes.

* * *

"Did you manage to keep yourself occupied today?" Susan inquired as she placed a soapy plate on the dishrack. She and Caspian had found themselves doing the dishes once again; Edmund had fled at the imminent prospect of housework, and Peter was dropping Lucy off at her piano lessons. The work was a silent affair, but unlike the day before it was Caspian himself—and not Susan—who kept the distance.

Caspian nodded and took the plate to dry it. "Yes, I did some reading and-"

"One of the books I left out?" Susan prompted.

"Yes," Caspian said after a while, concentrating on drying the plate in his hand.

"How did you like it?" Susan pressed eagerly.

"It was… er… _intriguing_." Caspian felt a blush creeping up and avoided looking at Susan when he put away the dry plate to grab a new one. "I've also been listening to the radio. I know how they work now. The trick is to not turn the knob entirely."

"That's right." Susan smiled faintly and went back to the dishes waiting to be rinsed. She had noticed him changing the subject, Caspian realised, but did nothing to salvage the conversation.

They worked in silence again, and it was as uncomfortable as it had been the day before. Caspian felt, rather than saw, Susan's eyes on him on more than one occasion, but he did not look up and concentrated at the task at hand, grateful for having something to do.

There were things he knew about Susan now. Things he had wanted to know, oh yes, but he had wanted her to _tell _him. He wanted her to trust him with it. Reading it in a book that wasn't meant for his eyes seemed like cheating. He knew her better than he ought, and he felt the urge to share something in return; to restore the balance…

"I thought we agreed we needn't act so nervous." Susan said, referring to the conversation they'd had in the very same place just one day ago. Her voice was soft, and her figure was so still it was like she hadn't spoken at all. But the sentence was meaningful and hung between them heavily, until Caspian replied.

"We did. I'm not nervous."

"You're not speaking." Susan contradicted, and Caspian met her eye briefly.

"I'm just… I've got a lot to think about."

It was no lie. Even the little passage he had read in Susan's book had given him a lot to ponder. Most of the time today he had spent staring in the distance with unseeing eyes, reliving memories; some old, some new.

"What's keeping you so occupied then? Susan pressed, and added in a quieter voice. "Do you miss Narnia?"

"Not exactly… You do, don't you?"

Susan nodded, and seized a large frying pan to clean it.

"What is it that you miss?" Caspian asked curiously, watching as Susan's hands expertly erased all traces of the meatballs she had prepared for that evening.

"Everything," Susan said with a resigned sigh. "I miss the land—the mountains and the rivers—but more so I miss how everything in Narnia seemed different; easier somehow. I miss the people... I miss Aslan… the friends we made. I miss being Queen." Susan ducked her head slightly at the last part. "Here I'm no one."

_You're not no one, _Caspian thought, but didn't speak out loud. Instead he voiced some of the things that had been plaguing him.

"I used to want to be king too," he said, and Susan looked up—surprised by the change of subject, "when I was very young and my father still lived. I couldn't wait." Caspian smiled faintly at the distant memory. "He was a good king, my father, and I wanted to be just like him. He laughed a lot, he made it look so easy, it seemed there wasn't a single downside. But then he died." Caspian's face fell, and Susan took on a sympathetic expression, "and Miraz took his place. Miraz was so different; under him there were suddenly political games; manipulation was everywhere, and people were always complaining, never satisfied. All the pride and enthusiasm I had felt disappeared; I wanted to be the King my father was, but it seemed that that world had made place for an much more unpleasant one." Caspian couldn't have stopped talking even if he had wanted to. Breaching the subject had been like breaching the dam that had kept the thoughts in all this time. And now there was no stopping the wave of words that was released.

"I was the future king and was told I had to act like it. Miraz trained me to be a king—a king _like him_—but I came to dislike the idea so much I was content to let Miraz reign, as long as I didn't have to be what he was." Caspian looked slightly sheepish. "I did not realise what harm he was causing." The dishes lay forgotten now. Caspian almost forgot he was talking to Susan as he voiced the thoughts that had been triggered by the book.

"But then my cousin was born and everything changed. I didn't want to be king until Miraz took it away from me—until I saw what he really did. I didn't _want_ to be king… I _needed_ to be. But my people were not what I expected; they were not the people of my father, nor were they the people Miraz ruled over. They were new, unfamiliar, and I did not know how to behave around them; how do you react when a Robin gives you strategic advise?"

A small smile crept on Susan's face, but Caspian was too engrossed in his own speech to notice it. "When you returned," Caspian nodded at the door to the living room where they had all sat for dinner, " I was only too willing to let you take over. I still didn't want to be king, and I needn't be with you there. You had done it before, you knew the people, and the people trusted you. I was happy to take a step back for Peter, who seemed so keen to rule again."

"But we left," Susan whispered, and Caspian was surprised by her words. She was still holding both the brush and the frying pan, but she had done nothing with them when she had listened to Caspian.

"Indeed; you left. And I had to step up as king, not knowing how to do it, and not understanding my people." Caspian didn't entirely succeed at keeping the resentment out of his tone as he remembered Aslan's decision. "It was clear that I should not do what Miraz had taught me, and the world was too different to be the carefree king my father had seemed. The Old Narnians and Telmarines are _divided;_ they do not trust each other and they do not trust me either." This time the resentment was truly evident, and Caspian flinched at the harshness of his own voice. He sighed and spoke softer. "I want to be a good king for them, I truly do. But I am not as wise as my father, or as great as Peter. I don't have Edmund's wisdom, or your patience or Lucy's faith… I don't even have Miraz' strength."

A silence met the end of Caspian's speech. There it was; the problem he had been wrestling with long before Miraz drove him out of the castle. Caspian felt rather foolish and embarrassed, now that he had admitted all of it. Susan would certainly think he was weak, or childish. At least now he felt somewhat better about having read her personal thoughts. The balance seemed to be a little more restored, now that he had blurted out more than he had intended…

"Give us a little more credit, Caspian."

His head snapped up. Not only was that the last response he had expected, but her voice sounded light and untroubled.

"Do you really think we would allow you to rule this land if you were unable? Would Aslan allow you to rule his land?"

Caspian blinked and stared, and Susan chuckled at his expression.

"Look, Caspian, you don't have to be like your father or Peter or Edmund to be a good king. And please, try not to be more like your uncle." She laughed, and the sound sounded strange after Caspian's heavy thoughts. "Why don't you try and be more like yourself?"

Caspian's eyebrows knit in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we didn't know what to do either," Susan said, setting down the pan and leaning against the counter. "How do you think we felt when we happened across a strange land and we were told we had to fight a war and rule them? We didn't have the slightest idea what we were getting ourselves into, what was expected of us or how we were supposed to handle it. But we got through together. We didn't know what to do, but we did our best. And together, that was enough."

Susan raked her fingers through her hair as she spoke, and Caspian listened. He had always thought of the Pevensies family as born rulers; it seemed to be so natural to them. But, naturally, there had to have been a moment where they were new to it, too. It seemed they'd had even less preparation than he had.

"All of us have our strength and our weaknesses. Together, we had everything we needed. They didn't call us the Magnificent, Gentle, Just and Valiant for fun, you know. Although sometimes-" a mischievous sparkle that Caspian liked very much appeared in her eyes "-sometimes I feel Aslan gave us the wrong titles. Peter ought to have been High King Peter the Pig-Headed, instead."

The snort that escaped Caspian sounded like a single loud bark, and it lifted his heavy spirits considerably. "King Edmund, the Sacastic," he added.

Susan giggled. "Queen Lucy, the Skippy."

"Queen Susan, the Beautiful." It was out before he thought about it. Susan's grin disappeared immediately, her expression surprised. "I'm sorry if that was too forward," Caspian added hastily.

"No, it's okay," Susan said, and a small but pleased smile appeared. "You just caught me off guard."

Caspian let her eyes travel over her features. Even if he had been a little too forward, it was still true. Susan looked exceptionally beautiful; her long, dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her soft brown eyes were honest and happy. Her face was flawless, except for the freckles on her nose and cheeks, but they added playfulness and cheerfulness.

"What title would you give me?" His voice was low. Susan was silent for a second, biting her bottom lip as she pondered his question.

"King Caspian the Sincere," she said, eventually. The freckled skin on her nose wrinkled as she smiled. "I have never met anyone more upfront—more honest— than you are. Sure, you act rash sometimes, and you ought to think before you act, but you always do what you feel is the right thing, no one could ever doubt your intentions."

Caspian looked away and he pondered her words. He couldn't disagree with her, but he also didn't see how being _sincere _would help him being a good king.

As if she could read his mind, Susan continued. "Caspian, your people know exactly who you are and what you want. This is what they need right now; a king they can trust on. A king that will do as he promises. They need someone like you after all the scheming and manipulation of King Miraz the Petty."

Caspian smiled weakly at her faint attempt to lighten the mood somewhat. He still felt being sincere wasn't nearly as impressive as 'the Valiant' or 'the Magnificent'.

"What I'm trying to say, Caspian, is that you shouldn't try to be like someone else, because that's not what's important. It's better to think of who _you _are. It's not your title as King that determines what kind of man you'll be. It's _you_—your character—that decides what kind of King you'll be. None of us were ever ready, but we were who we were, and that was enough."

Her words made sense. Caspian's eyes widened as he mulled them over, and Susan put a light hand on his arm.

"Just think about it."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: I'm back. And I come come carrying something good. :D_

_Thanks everyone, for sticking by me and for being patient with me. I truly am grateful for that. Well that, and for reviewing, of course! Specifically: Soweird666 (can't say that I've seen that movie. I should through, I heard it's where Ben got his acent for Caspian), Shining Friendship, acacia59601, Captain Mayhem, SashaWPevensie, hpswst101, melwa_elena (welcome!I'm happy to know you enjoy it!) mae-E, garnetred, enjoylife1994, mistressbabette51 and Eowyn Shadeslayer._

* * *

**Chapter 13: London**

Wind whipped in Caspian's face the next morning as he found himself looking upon a familiar sight. It was a Saturday and he had been told that this meant the schools were closed. None of the four Pevensies had to leave this day, or the next, and that left a full weekend they could spend in each other's company. Edmund had suggested they could to show Caspian around the city, and it was a suggestion that was met enthusiastically by his siblings.

King's Cross Station had not changed from the way it had looked two days ago, but it was so much busier now, it seemed like a different place. While the station had been almost entirely deserted when he'd spent the night on a bench at platform fourteen, now there was a flurry of activity everywhere he looked. Droves of people walked in every direction, and the air was full with the sound of hurried footsteps, loud voices, and the occasional loud '_tooot_' of the large trains with their billowing columns of steam. Caspian turned his head in every direction, trying to see everything at the same time. There was no place in Narnia that even slightly resembled this train station and Caspian wondered what Professor Cornelius' response would be if he tried to describe it to him. That was, if he'd still have an opportunity to describe it to the old master. He didn't let the sudden dark thought hold him down long. It was simply impossible to feel gloomy for any length of time when there were so many new things waiting to been seen and discovered.

Lucy had taken Caspian's hand and had appointed herself the role of tour guide; she enthusiastically pulled him along and commented on everything she saw in a loud twittering voice, while Caspian tried to keep up with everything she pointed out.

"Those boards over there; that's where you find your right train, and if you don't know the way you could always ask one of the people that work here, they're all real friendly. I once got lost here when I wasn't paying attention and I was ever so scared, but they helped me find mother—I say, look at that lady over there! Over there are the toilets, but you don't want to use them, they're always really filthy. And here we..."

Edmund rolled his eyes at them, but Susan punched him on the arm. "Ed! He's never seen this before," she hissed. Caspian was too far to hear her, but he looked around when he realized he and Lucy had fallen behind. He grinned at Susan excitedly, and she smiled back, amused.

"Come on, Lu, we don't want to lose them in this crowd." Lucy nodded and made a beeline for her brothers and sister, still tugging on Caspian's hand. It wasn't necessary; Caspian followed willingly enough. There was another thing that had gradually changed during his stay in England; a month ago, Caspian wouldn't have dared to call the Valiant Queen 'Lu'. In fact, if anyone suggested it when the Professor first told him of the Old Legends, Caspian would have said that person had had too much sweet wine and ought be more respectful. But Caspian couldn't help it; the young queen was very easy to get along with. She did not act like a queen, and being away from Narnia made it easier for Caspian to forget who he was talking to and to take over the nickname her siblings called her by. Lucy didn't seem to mind; she gripped Peter's elbow with her free hand when she and Caspian caught up, and turned to him.

"Where are we going?"

"Well," Peter shot a look at Caspian, and his face was not unkind; "I figured it would be nice to show Caspian the city for a bit, visit the most important places… And we could have lunch in Hyde Park." This proposition was received well, and Edmund and Susan started a discussion of the most worthwhile places in the city and the trains they should take to get there. Caspian only listened with half an ear; none of the names and places they mentioned sounded familiar to him, and frankly he would be content to simply stand on the station all day - there was so much to see, he doubted he'd be bored even for a second.

It was almost a minute later when Peter tapped Caspian on the shoulder and pointed at a small group of men in green outfits, wearing strange-looking hats. Even though all the attires in England looked peculiar to Caspian, those stood out even here. The men stood erect, talking to each other and paying little attention to the crowd all around them. "Those are our soldiers." Peter said, and there was a certain reverence in his voice that Caspian had never heard the High King use before. "From the look of their uniforms, they're being sent to fight abroad."

Peter hadn't spoken much to Caspian today, though he had clearly made an effort to be friendly, and Caspian replied to his attempt gladly. "Where are their swords?" His eyes travelled over the forms of the men and their greenish bags, and suddenly he missed his own trusted sword, which Edmund had convinced him to leave behind for the day.

"We don't fight with swords." Peter said. "We have guns—those black things; they have a further range."

Both of them looked at the soldiers for a while as they made their way to platform six, from which their next train would depart underground—Susan called it "the tube".

"I was mistaken for a soldier twice when I was looking for you." Caspian said, thinking back. "Even though I was carrying a sword. Someone thought I was… DLV?"

"LDV," Peter corrected. "Local Defence Volunteers. The Home Guard. They do what they can to help in the war from here, and they'll protect us if the Axis manage to set foot on shore." He eyed Caspian. "You look like you could be one of them if you carried a sword. Not all of them have guns."

"Will the… _Axis_… get here?" Caspian asked. He remembered their conversation about the war from two days before, but it was hard to believe there was a war going on when he looked around; no one seemed scared or worried. A train halted at their platform noisily, and it suddenly got even busier on the platform when people began to spill out the second the doors opened.

"Let's hope not," said Edmund, who had been listening to their conversation. They boarded the train and Caspian only barely managed to find a seat before it started to move with a jerk. "We'll give 'em hell if they do."

* * *

It was evening when the company strolled at a comfortable pace by the river Thames. Caspian had his hands shoved deep inside the pockets of the jacket that belonged to Mr Pevensie. The weather had cooled down considerably after the two hot days he had spent looking for the Pevensies. It had been comfortable enough during the day, but, now that the sun was gone, Caspian could feel the chilly wind. According to Lucy they were lucky it was dry; the weather never was really good in early May.

"That's the Palace of Westminster." Peter said, pointing at a vast building on his right. "The home of our parliament."

"That's like the Council of Elders in Narnia," Edmund interjected. "These are the people that rule England."

Caspian frowned. "But doesn't England have a queen?" he wondered aloud, remembering the impressive and majestic palace he'd seen earlier on the day. He could not remember its name; he'd seen and heard too much today to remember all of it.

"Yes, we do," Peter said, but he looked unsure how to explain this contradiction. "The government is more powerful," he said eventually.

"More powerful than the queen?" Caspian repeated, dumbfounded. He internally shuddered at the idea of the Council of Elders being more powerful than him; they'd never get anything done. "I'm glad we do _that _differently in Narnia."

Peter agreed wholeheartedly, but Susan and Edmund looked more thoughtful. "Well, there is something to be said for a parliament," Susan remarked. "They have a better idea of what the people want. One person can't know everything." She bit her lip. "Besides, power corrupts."

Caspian wasn't convinced. "All the council ever does is talk and complain. They would never manage anything if there wasn't somebody who overruled them."

"If Hitler couldn't overrule the German government, maybe there would be no war."

It took a moment for Caspian to realize it had been Lucy who had said it. Susan looked at her sister in surprise, and momentarily no one could think of a response.

While Caspian had been unable to imagine the ongoing war when he'd walked around King's Cross Station that morning, he could clearly see the signs in the city of London. It was an impressive and overwhelming city, but he had seen many ruined buildings during the day; some bore the obvious marks of a raging fire and others had collapsed entirely, like the right side of Professor Kirke's house had been. And though all four of the Pevensie siblings assured him the last bombings had been _months _ago, Caspian still found the idea of explosive devices falling from the sky rather disconcerting, and was thankful that those did not exist in Narnia. The technology of England was much more developed and advanced, but it was clear to Caspian that not all development was, in fact, progress.

"We should be heading home," Susan said eventually. "It'll be dark soon."

"Oh, come on," Lucy said, pouting. "It's not a school day tomorrow."

"No, but we all know how you get when you've had a bad night sleep." Peter cut in. "Susan is right, Lu. We ought to be getting-" But Peter was cut short when a sudden noise rang and halted everyone in their tracks. It was a sound Caspian had never heard before, but if anything, it resembled a large horn being blown. As strange as the sound was, Caspian mostly noticed the response it generated. All four of the Pevensies, as well as all the other people on the street, froze and looked at the sky in unison.

"Now we _really _have to go." Susan's voice was oddly controlled and it clashed with her sudden tense stance, and Peter nodded curtly as he seized Lucy's elbow and stalked away briskly. For a change, Lucy did not object.

"Come on." Edmund shot a significant look at Caspian and jerked his head in the direction of his brother, indicating that they should follow.

"What was that?" Caspian asked concerned.

"Air alarm." Edmund said, glancing at the sky. "It means there have been sightings of hostile airplanes."

Caspian's eyes widened at he looked at the sky too. Despite his short stay in this strange world, he had learned enough to understand this threat. But the sky showed no signs of bomb-dropping flying devices; the clouds were heavy and grey as they had been for a while now.

"Caspian!" Susan's voice sounded slightly panicked.

Caspian tore his eyes from the sky to find that he had fallen behind quickly, and he had to jog to catch up with them again. "Will there be… bombs?" He asked the Just King worriedly. "I thought you said those ended months ago."

"It… might be nothing." Edmund replied, keeping his eyes on the backs of his siblings. "The air alarm is just a precaution… a warning, if you will, to get everyone off the streets. There might not be a real threat, and if there is, we don't know where the planes are headed. But we should get off the streets nonetheless home anyway."

The group walked in silence for a while. Peter had taken lead and made a straight line for the nearest tube station. Little Lucy, whose legs were simply not as long as that of her siblings, had to run slightly to keep up, and tripped when they rounded the corner onto Vauxhall Bridge Road.

"Why did they return now?" Lucy's voice was high with fright.

"I don't know, Lu. Come on, hurry along now."

"Wait, Peter, look!" Caspian nearly ran into the youngest queen when she suddenly halted in her tracks.

"Lu!" Peter exclaimed, his exasperated voice strained. "There is no _time_-"

"No, look!" In unison Caspian, Edmund, Peter and Susan turned their heads in the same direction of Lucy's. Vauxhall bridge was illuminated by two dozen bright lanterns that contrasted sharply against the rapidly darkening sky. Three black figures were the only ones left on the streets, apart from their own company. The three were clearly engaged in some kind of fight; one of them was on the ground, shielding his face from the impact of fists and boots.

"That's none of our business, Lucy." Peter looked doubtfully from the fighting trio at the other side of the bridge to the entrance of the tube, which was now visible at their right.

"We can't just leave, Peter," Susan cut in. "We need to help that man."

"Susan's right, we should," Edmund added. Then he was gone. Peter yelled after his brother, who sprinted over the cobblestone streets towards the bridge, yelling and waving his arms. "Oi! Oi, you! Stop that!"

Peter let out a string of profanities and followed after Edmund, who had now managed to get the men's attention. Caspian and Susan shared a brief desperate look before they followed suit, Susan tugging Lucy along with the hand. The high whine of the air alarm still rang in Caspian's ears, and it kept him from catching the first few sentences that were being exchanged between the fighting men and Edmund.

"- as well. All of it, it's _their _fault!" The figures were now no longer black against the streetlights. The ranting man was dressed in a long, caramel coloured overcoat and dark green trousers. The kick he aimed at the miserable looking man on the ground missed only because Peter pulled him away at the last second.

"Let go of me, you little brat!" The man spat as he wrenched his elbow from Peter's grasp. "The German pig deserves it. My sister's blind because of _their _raids-" The man would most like have launched another attack if the London sky hadn't suddenly lit up with foreign-looking pillars of light.

Caspian's eyes widened. "Susan?" He reached behind him, and tapped her on the arm when he found her, not taking his eyes off the strange sight. "What are those?"

"Searchlights." Susan said breathlessly. "They're trying to find the planes and take them down before they can do any damage."

There was a quiver in her voice, and Caspian looked aside to find that his brave queen was starting to look quite terrified. Caspian gently squeezed her arm in reassurance. There was really nothing he could do, but she seemed to be comforted by it nonetheless.

"They _are _here," Lucy whispered.

The air alarm now sounded louder somehow, more urgent. And Caspian was suddenly very aware of the entrance to the tube station, not six hundred feet behind them. He still was not quite sure what a bomb was, but he certainly didn't want to stick around to find out. They had to leave… and soon.

The two fighting me must have been thinking along the same lines. The aggressive man in the long brown coat exchanged a significant look with his more silent companion, muttered, "Oh, sod it all!", and ran off into the darkness.

Before Caspian knew it, little Lucy slipped past him and sank to her knees next to the beaten man on the ground. The sleeve he held against his nose was quickly turning crimson. "Sir, are you alright?"

The middle aged seemed disoriented and blinked a couple of times before he replied. "Yes, I… thank you." He grunted as he tried to get up, and Lucy supported him by the elbow.

"I just wish I had my vial on me," she said anxiously. If the man thought this comment was strange, he did not show it.

"Really, thank you." This time the man looked at Edmund and Peter. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't…" his heavily accented voice trailed off.

It was then that Caspian noticed the sound for the first time. It had probably been there all along in the background, but the sharp sound of the air alarm blocked out many of the other sounds, and his mind had been too occupied to pay a lot of attention to it. But now that a short silence fell, Caspian caught the low rumbling sound, which was growing more and more prominent.

"We should not be here," Caspian said.

Susan nodded, and turned to the bloodied man, who was still clutching his nose. "Can you walk?"

Before the man had a chance to answer however, Peter cut in with a different question.

"Are you German?" There was a strange look in his eye, and Caspian recognized the disapproving set of the High King's jaw. "Well, are you?" Peter prompted when the man did not immediately reply.

"Yes," the man said eventually, his eyes flickering between Peter and the cloudy sky. The roar of the airplanes continued to build, but they remained invisible behind the blanket of clouds that covered the sky. "I fled my country last year. It was not safe for…"

"Peter, there's no time!" Susan's voice sounded shrill in the night air, and Peter seemed to remember the danger his family was in. In a flash he pulled Lucy to her feet and held her close.

"Get off the road!" Caspian yelled.

At that moment, the London sky lit up as the first bomb hit the city.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

_AN: Yes. An update. Already. I was on a roll; why keep it to myself? Thanks so much, **Sedri**, for the lightning fast beta job; you are the best! I would never get those capitals right without you! ::snort::_

_Thanks, as usual, to those who reviewed: Princess Lucy, acacia59601, (I came across it while researching WWII England. I didn't go very deep, just so that I knew enough to write about it. ::interested:: Why would you ask?), JollyElfDance554, garnetred (is this soon enough? ::wink::), Shining Friendship, Soweird66 (Ugh, you're right. I am. In my defense; I never saw any of them, so I can't really tell them apart...), __melwa elena and emerald_teardrops (Happy dance? Is that something I might get to see? ::grins:: I promise I won't blow them up...too much. ::evil cackle::)_

_And just a tip: you might want to read this while playing 'The Blitz, 1940' from the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe soundtrack on the loop. It's how I wrote it._

* * *

**Chapter 14: London Blitz**

"_Peter, there's no time!" Susan's voice sounded shrill in the night air, and Peter seemed to remember the danger his family was in. In a flash he pulled Lucy to her feet and held her close._

"_Get off the road__!" Caspian yelled._

_At that moment__ the London sky lighted up with first bomb that hit the city._

* * *

The first flash of light was rapidly followed by a second, and a third. The loud drones followed with a slight delay. The air alarm continued to ring, pitifully and pointless, as if the city itself whined and complained about the blows.

Caspian watched all of it happen as if it were a dream; the flashes and the roars reminded him of a particularly bad thunderstorm. But when the fourth bomb hit much closer than the first three had, the dream-like sensation vanished instantly, and the fear and reality alike flooded back. The tube entrance now seemed much further - they could not hope to reach it before the planes caught up with them; not with an injured man and a terrified little girl. Still, they had to move; the bridge they were on was too exposed.

Lucy covered her ears as the ear deafening bang of the latest explosion reached them, but Peter grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her away.

"Come on, Lu! Run!"

And then they were running. Susan's hair flew behind her as she went, her rucksack clenched tightly in her hand. Edmund crashed into the German man when the latter stumbled on a protruding stone, but helped him get back on his feet, and continued his dash for cover. Each step carried them further away from the tube, but Caspian did not hesitate. All he wanted was to get off the bridge.

All around them, the sky continued to light up brightly every time a bomb found its way towards the ground. The earth groaned and quivered and threw them off balance. Caspian partly registered a girlish shriek, but couldn't determine whether it had been Lucy or Susan who had cried out.

Peter and Lucy were the first to reach the front of the white stone building closest to them. Peter dashed up the steps but found the door locked. He futilely threw his weight against it twice, before he cursed and rapidly descended the stairs again. Edmund tried the side entrance, but gave up quickly. He yelled in frustration, but his words were drowned by the fresh bang of the explosion on the opposite side of the river bank. Caspian was suddenly grateful they hadn't chosen to run to the tube, but he didn't stop to consider it for long.

The third door they reached was also locked, but collapsed under the force of both Edmund's and Peter's shoulder as they slammed into it.

"Quickly! Get in!" Peter all but threw Lucy inside and took a step back for the German man to pass. "Come on, hurry!"

Caspian grabbed Susan's rucksack; she had been staring transfixed at the raging fire on the opposite side of the river, and the sudden pull yanked her into action. The strap of the bag slipped off her shoulder, but she clung to it as she dashed inside, Caspian hot on her heels.

Caspian's first impression of the building was that it was some kind of library. Tall bookcases filled to their limits lined the walls. Caspian momentarily halted to take in his surroundings, but was hurried forwards by Peter, who slammed the door shut behind him.

"You broke the lock. They're not going to be happy with that." Lucy's eyes were wide with fright as she looked at her oldest brother.

"That's hardly our greatest concern right now, Lu." Edmund put a hand on his sister's shoulder and steered her out of the hallway. "Stay away from the windows."

"I don't suppose this store has a basement… or a shelter?" Susan wrung her hands as she looked around herself. "Somewhere we can hide?"

"I don't think so. But there's a table over there." It was the German man who had spoken—the accent was unmistakable— and he pointed at a sturdy looking wooden stable which had displayed several books on sale: the books had fallen off.

"Let's get under there. It's better than nothing," said Peter.

The table was too small for their company of six. Susan held Lucy securely as they huddled up to make room from the German man and Caspian. Caspian had tried to object, offering the last space to either Peter or Edmund, but both of them insisted he take it; they would not letting anything happen to their guest while he was staying with them.

The room shook as they hid out from the bombings, and some of the books fell from the quivering cabinets. The bright flashes and deafening bangs continued mercilessly as they sat and waited for the violence to end. Nobody spoke for a while as they listened to the crashes, all of them lost in their own train of thought, and for the first time since he stumbled out of the wardrobe, Caspian wished he hadn't left Narnia.

Their relative peace was short-lived. They had not been inside for three minutes yet when an explosion near their bookstore shattered the glass windows. The ground quivered as if it were a heavy earthquake. Even though they were protected by the table, Caspian shielded his face and Susan threw her arms around her sister to protect her from the rain of glass shards. Peter and Edmund ducked and made for the other side of the room.

Lucy began to cry silently. The Valiant Queen pressed her lips together in an attempt to stay brave, but there was no stopping the tears that had started to brim. Caspian looked up at the sound of her first sobs. Susan was faring no better, though she managed to keep her emotions in check; the tense set of her jaw showed that she was very shaken. It seemed completely natural that Caspian should take her and give it a comforting squeeze. Susan did not look at him, but took a deep breath and held onto him tightly.

"It's alright, Lu. We'll be okay," Peter feebly tried to console his youngest sibling from across the room. "This will be over soon, you'll see." It didn't help; a fresh blow nearby shook the earth before Peter had even finished. Lucy's sobs grew louder.

"Tell me, little girl, what is your name?"

Three heads under the table turned to watch the man with the heavy German accent. His face, however, was focused on Lucy with a kind expression.

Lucy wiped at her spilling tears with the palm of her hand. "I'm Lucy Pevensie." Her voice was weak, but clear.

"Nice to meet you, Lucy. My name is Anton." He held out his hand. It was bloodied from the beating he had suffered earlier, but Lucy shook it nonetheless.

"Nice to meet you too." Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath. "This is my family. She said, nodding towards her brothers hiding in a crouched stance in the opposite corner of the room. "Peter, Edmund, Susan… and Caspian."

Anton turned his head and nodded curtly at Susan and Caspian. "I'd like to thank you-" he paused and ducked his head when the world crashed and shook outside, "for helping me on the bridge."

"Why were they…? You know…" Susan asked.

"Because I am German." Anton sighed. Caspian looked at Anton apprehensively. "Oh, but I am not one of _them_!" Anton said, looking up. There was nothing to be seen, apart from the table, but above the roof—above the clouds even—his fellow countrymen were dropping their deadly weapons. "I fled Germany almost two years ago. I wasn't safe there."

He could not continue his story. All four of the Pevensies and Caspian were temporarily distracted as they listened to Anton, but the loudest crash yet jerked everyone back to reality and suddenly everything seemed to happen at once. The ground shook heavily; plaster rained down from the ceiling, which was suddenly bent and on the verge to collapse; the thick wooden joists which supported the ceiling nearly broke in two and there were long, deeps cracks in the walls. But most urgently, Caspian saw some of the heavy bookcases wobble and fall over.

"Peter!" His hand was out of Susan's in a second and he sprinted across the room.

Edmund, who had managed to avoid the tumbling bookcase by an inch, fell to his knees and threw aside the books scattered around his brother. "Pete! Are you alright?"

Peter's face and torso appeared as he shoved books off himself. His eyes were wide and his face a grimace as he grunted, "Get it off me!" The bookcase had crashed on top of him diagonally and pinned his lower torso and legs to the floor. Peter pushed at the solid wooded obstacle, but it did not give an inch. "Get it off!"

Caspian's fingers curled around the wooden frame as he heaved. The case was heavy, and lifted slightly, but not nearly enough to free Peter. Then Edmund was at his side and a second pair of hands aided him. The wood protested loudly as the bookcase and lifted a little further. The pressure on Peter's legs, however, must have grown exponentially in the process, because the elder Pevensie groaned, "Stop! Stop!"

Caspian loosened his grip on the frame, and looked around him wildly for something that could aid them. He faintly registered Susan saying, "Stay there, Lu!" and he turned to see Susan running over too.

"No, Susan, stay under the table!" he shouted over the sound of the crashes outside. What if it happened again? What if a cabinet fell on her?

Susan pushed Caspian out of the way and ran to Peter's other side where she fell on her knees. She found her brother's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "We're going to get you out of here," she promised, and Peter nodded.

Anton took place on the opposite side of the wardrobe too and his hands gripped the wooden frame firmly and determinedly.

"Ready, and _pull_!" Susan voice sounded clear and loud and four sets of strong arms tugged on the case at the best of their ability. The wood protested again, but was lifted off the ground, so that it only rested on the ground on one splintered corner.

"Quick, Peter! Move!" Caspian barely managed to grunt with the effort of keeping the cabinet up. Peter shifted backwards, but seemed to have trouble using his legs. Caspian's hands started to lose their grip on the smooth polished surface of the wood. "Hurry!" he urged. Next to him, Edmund panted heavily with exertion.

Then two small arms hooked themselves around Peter's arms from behind, and Lucy pulled her brother backwards just in time before the bookcase crashed back to the ground and missed Peter's toes by mere inches. Then she was in his arms, sobbing.

As Peter patted her head muttered comforting words in Lucy's hair, a panting Caspian looked around to share a relieved look with Susan and Edmund. Then he noticed the thick layer of white dust and rubble that covered the interior of the store as well as it's occupants. The joists had cracked and the roof was bent dangerously far. "We have to get out of here," he breathed.

Edmund followed his eye and looked up too. "It's going to cave soon," he agreed. "Pete, can you walk?"

Peter looked up from Lucy to Edmund. "I'll try…" Then he turned to his little sister again. "Come on, Lu, be a big girl. We need to go."

Susan pulled Lucy from Peter's arms and allowed her to cry on her jacket while Caspian and Anton helped Peter get up. Peter swayed on his feet, and blood drained his face. "I'll manage."

"No, you won't." Caspian seized the High King's right arm and threw it around his should to support him. Anton quickly joined and took his left.

They didn't manage to get to the exit a fast as Caspian would like. Any second he expected the ceiling to come down in a crash, and every second he was amazed that it hadn't. At the front, Edmund kicked open the door to the street. Lucy, who was still crying on her older sister's shoulder, did not complain about the door again. Instead, Susan ushered her outside to make way for the trio that progressed rather clumsily.

The city was on fire. Apart from the flashes from explosion that still occurred all around them, there were now several fires in the city that illuminated the sky also. The nearest, just two building on their left, illuminated their company as they exited the bookstore. Thick smoke burned in their throats and noses and Caspian covered his nose and mouth with his free hand as they stumbled over the streets. The smoke veiled their eyes and did nothing to speed up their process.

"Where to?" Susan asked, frantically.

"The tube!" Edmund said urgently.

"But it's so far!" Susan looked up at the cloudy sky and tightened the arm she had wrapped around Lucy.

"It's underground," Anton argued from Caspian's left.

Peter coughed and nodded. His voice was raspy when he added, "The tube… it's the only safe place."

Thus they started their way towards the bridge. Breathing became easier for Caspian once he left the thick smoke behind him, but Peter was a dead weight around his neck. Looking down, he noticed the blood soaked fabric of Peter's trouser's left leg. Peter's face was deadly white, and his expression was contorted in a permanent grimace. Praying that his injury was nothing serious, Caspian firmly grasped Peter's arm and lifted his king with renewed strength and focused only on reaching the tube. All else could wait.


End file.
